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i„D6toe  Period  Un 


THE  MORTAL  MOON; 


OR, 


Bacon  and  his  Masks. 


THE  DEFOE  PERIOD   UNMASKED. 


BY 

J.  E.  ROE. 


"  He  is  an  ill  discoverer  who  thinks  there  is  no  land  when   he  can  see  nothing 
but  sea." — Bacon. 


NEW  YORK : 

BURR    PRINTING    HOUSE, 

Frankfort  and  Jacob  Sts. 


COPTKIGHT,    1891, 

By  J.  E.  ROeI 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIPORNU 
SANTA  BABBAKA 


•7^^ 


U 


DEDIOATIOlSr. 


To  all  exercising  that  royalty  of  mind  that  suspends 
the  judgment  until  the  proofs  are  in,  do  we  dedicate  this 
work.  Even  those  who  would  look  into  it,  not  to  believe, 
but  for  its  novelty,  romance,  pretty  chain  of  relations, 
and  bits  of  good  literature,  will  upon  like  condition,  be 
included  in  our  dedication. 


PREFACE. 


The  relational  facts  and  circumstances  connected  with 
the  life  of  Lord  Bacon  will  be  here  found  collated  and 
marshalled  beyond  the  cloud,  and  so  that  the  reader  shall 
himself  say,  Bacon  stands  in  new  light.  Here  he  may 
likewise  find  short  steps  to  the  heart  of  the  Baconian 
philosophy. 

The  several  masks  under  which  Lord  Bacon  performed 
his  great  hitherto  undisclosed  work  will  be  brought  into 
relation  with  his  generally  attributed  writings,  and  be 
found  to  be,  not  merely  in  harmony  with,  but  to  be  their 
principles  expanded  in  detail  ;  and  thus,  after  a  suspen- 
sion of  upward  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  years,  their  re- 
stored relations. 

Having  reached  our  conclusions  with  care,  we  hesitate 
not  in  making  a  claim  which  we  feel  that  time  and  close 
investigation  must  rijjen  into  belief.  We  indeed  here  open 
a  door  to  methods  which  must  erelong  surprise  the  world. 
And  the  matter,  coming  through  the  highest  mortal 
reaches,  and,  according  to  design,  largely  upon  the  wings 
of  romance,  must  make  it  ever  permanent  with  the  race. 
As  to  the  setting  of  the  ants,  the  race,  anew  at  work 
Bacon  himself  says:  "And  certainly  I  have  raised  up 
here  a  little  heap  of  dust,  and  stored  under  it  a  great  many 
grains  of  sciences  and  arts,  into  which  the  ants  may  creep 
and  rest  for  awhile  and  then  prepare  themselves  for  fresh 
labors.  Now  the  wisest  of  kings  refers  sluggards  to  the 
ants  ;  and  for  my  part,  I  hold  all  men  for  sluggards  who 


VI  PKEFACE. 

care  only  to  use  what  they  have  got,  without  preparing  for 
new  seed-times  and  new  harvests  of  knowledge." 

Eeasons  for  the  first  part  of  our  title  will  in  due  time 
appear. 

The  interpretation  of  the  play  of  Hamlet  and  of  The 
Tempest,  and  which  only  we  have  attempted  to  handle, 
will  be  found  new,  as  will  our  interpretation  of  the  son- 
nets, and  in  which  alone  we  shall  endeavor  to  reward  the 
reader  for  any  labor  he  may  bestow  upon  this  work.  In- 
deed, its  Shake-speare  features  will  be  found  to  have  an 
interest  for  the  general  reader  which  they  have  not  hitherto 
possessed,  in  that,  instead  of  giving  a  mnltitude  of  merely 
grouped  together  parallelisms'  we  give  a  history,  wherein 
tliese,  as  far  as  space  and  circumstance  will  permit,  are 
made  to  fall  into  relation.  We  have,  in  fact,  so  far  as 
may  be,  made  Lord  Bacon  his  own  Eobinson  Crusoe  ;  and 
thus  to  tell  the  story  of  his  life,  and  concerning  whose 
doings  will  be  found  greater  romance  than  was  ever  yet 
spread  in  an  Arabian  tale.  J.  E.  E. 

May  30,  1891. 


COI^TENTS. 


PAGE 

Description  of  the  Masks, 9 

Grounds  of  Belief, 12 

Works  of  Reference,      ........  15 

Introduction, .  17 

Relational  Facts 117 

Life  of  Bacon, 178 

The  Tempest,            . 319 

The  Story  of  My  Life 347 

Baconian  Framework  in  Crusoe 388 

Haeley  and  Defoe, 402 

The  Thread  of  the  Labyrinth 447 


THE  MASKS. 


1.  The  Anatomy  of  Abuses,  by  Phillip  Stubbs.  This 
vigorous,  though  evidently  youthful  treatise,  consisting 
of  229  pages,  first  appeared  in  1583,  when  Bacon  was  but 
twenty-two  years  of  age.  It  was  probably  the  earliest  pub- 
lic production  from  his  pen,  and  is  replete  with  forceful 
expressions  of  early  Puritan  views  against  then  existing 
abuses.  It  was  dedicated  to  the  Earl  of  Arundel,  at  whose 
house  Lord  Bacon  is  said  to  have  died,  in  1626. 

2.  All  those  writings  appearing  between  the  years  1585 
and  1623,  and  generally  attributed  to  William  Shakespeare. 
Bacon  here  painted  forth  to  the  public  eye,  and  shook  a 
spear  at  the  foibles  of  men — in  other  words,  at  their  ruling 
follies. 

3.  The  Court  of  King  James,  by  A.  D.  B.  This  work 
was  put  forth  under  these  initials  as  a  mask  in  1619.  It 
consists  of  a  brief  treatise  of  168  pages  upon  courts  of 
princes,  and  particularly  of  that  of  James  the  First  of 
England.  It  was  dedicated  to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
whose  religious  opinions  and  other  conduct  it  was  evi- 
dently designed  to  intiuence  ;  and  who,  by  reason  of  it,  as 
we  shall  claim,  became  one,  if  not  the  chief  mover  of 
Bacon's  cloud  and  of  the  tempest  that  followed. 

4.  The  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  by  Democritus  Junior. 
This  work  is  doubtless  the  accumulation  of  years,  but  was 
put  forth  in  1621,  the  year  during  which  Lord  Bacon's 
troubles  began,  though  not  then  first  put  forth,  as  has 
generally  been  supposed.  In  Bacon's  attributed  writings 
Democritus  is  indeed  a  most  prominent  figure.  In  his 
article  entitled  "  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature"  (Works, 
vol.  ii.,  p.  548)  Bacon  says  :  "  Democritus,  I  think,  did 
not  unhappily  philosophize  when,  attributing  immense 
variety  and  infinite  succession  to  nature,  he  set  himself 
against  almost  all  other  philosophers,  the  slaves  of  custom, 
and  given  over  to  secularities,  and  by  this  opposition,  bring- 
ing both  errors  into  collision,  destroyed  both  and  opened 


10  THE    MASKS. 

some  way  for  truth  between  tlie  extremes."  And  in 
vol.  i.,  p.  437,  he,  among  other  things  of  Democritus, 
says  he  "  was  deemed  by  universal  consent  the  greatest  of 
natural  philosophers  and  obtained  the  name  of  a  wise  man  ;" 
while  in  Aphorism  51  of  the  Novum  Organum  he  says  : 
"  But  it  is  better  to  dissect  than  abstract  nature  ;  such  was 
the  method  employed  by  the  school  of  Democritus,  which 
made  greater  progress  in  penetrating  nature  than  the  rest." 

Robert  Burton's  name  became  first  associated  with  this 
work  some  years  after  his  death,  which  occurred  in  1639, 
and  after  it  had  passed  through  many  editions.  Of  Bur- 
ton's life  little  is  known,  and  this  great  work  is  the  only 
literary  product  with  which  his  name  is  associated.  Its 
note-book  range  of  knowledge  is  truly  encyclopasdic.  It 
will  be  found  to  contain  allusions  to  all  of  the  fables 
treated  in  Bacon's  "  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients,"  and  is  re- 
plete with  all  of  those  elements  wrought  so  forcefully  into 
the  so-called  Shakespeare  j^lays.  The  causes  of  the  malady 
that  threatened  Hamlet  and  that  quite  overtook  Ophelia 
are  graphically  set  forth.  Some  few  events  occurring  since 
Bacon's  death  may,  it  is  true,  be  found  in  the  work,  but 
which  we  shall  claim  interpolations  ;  for  it  must  be  dis- 
tinctly borne  in  mind  that  claimed  additions  and  corrections 
by  Burton  himself  before  his  death,  have  since  that  event 
been  made  to  the  work,  as  from  its  introduction  will  ap- 
pear. Now  in  the  light  of  this  statement,  let  it  be  noted 
that  this  work  was  first  issued  in  one  volume,  8vo,  purple 
morocco  (Bacon  at  his  wedding  was  clothed  in  a  full  suit 
of  purple),  by  Bright  T.,  as  author,  in  1586,  when  Burton 
was  but  ten  yenrs  of  age,  he  having  been  born  February 
8th,  1576  ;  and  which  fact  must,  we  think,  put  Burton's 
claims,  or  rather  those  made  for  him,  at  rest. 

5.  Robinson  Crusoe,  by  Daniel  Foe,  or  Defoe.  Under 
this  head  we  include  all  that  literature  which  is  now  at- 
tributed to  Daniel  Defoe,  Dean  Swift,  and  some  others, 
political  tools  of  Robert  Harley,  the  noted  manuscript 
collector  of  the  Defoe  period  and  first  Earl  of  Oxford,  and 
put  forth  at  various  dates  between  the  years  1685  and 
1731,  and  which,  however  inconsistent  it  may  at  first 
appear,  we  shall  claim  as  brought  forth  from  the  dusty 
manuscripts  of  Lord  Bacon's  pen.  And  ultimately  we 
shall  reach  the  question  as  to  the  mental  forces  that  set  in 
operation  the  English  Revolution  of  1688. 


THE   MASKS.  11 

6.  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  and  The  Holy  War,  by  John 
Banyan.  Concerning  the  first,  we  quote  from  a  copy  of 
Banyan's  life  as  follows  :  "  The  finest  specimen  of  well- 
sustained  allegory  in  any  langaage  is  the  compositiou 
of  this  self-taught  rustic,  who  little  aimed  at  literary  celeb- 
rity in  the  homely  parable  which  he  wrote  to  solace  his 
prison  hours  for  the  religious  instraction  of  the  common 
people.  The  most  admirable  exposition  of  the  elements 
of  Christian  theology,  one  which  is  so  little  of  a  controver- 
sial or  sectarian  character,  that  it  may  confessedly  be  read 
without  offence  by  sober-minded  Protestants  of  all  persua- 
sions, and  yet  so  comprehensive  as  to  form  the  best  possible 
body  of  divinity,  is  the  composition  of  an  obscure,  itiner- 
ant preacher,  whose  apostolic  labors  consigned  him,  in  the 
days  of  the  Stuarts,  to  a  twelve  years'  imprisonment  in 
Bedford  jail  for  no  other  crime  than  his  nonconformity." 

As  we  design  to  make  this  work  a  subject  for  special 
consideration,  we  shall  but  enlarge  upon  it  here  sufficiently 
to  move  it  to  its  place  in  the  great  Baconian  system  yet  to 
be  unfolded. 

If,  then,  our  claims,  new  laid  and  under  better  light,  be 
true,  we  may  cease  to  wonder  that  Lord  Bacon  was  content 
to  say  :  "  For  my  name  and  memory,  I  leave  it  to  men's 
charitable  speeches,  and  to  foreign  nations,  and  to  the  next 
ages." 

His  comprehensive  wisdom  foresaw  that  the  real  truth 
must  ultimately  appear,  and  so  in  the  so-called  Shake- 
speare Sonnet  55,  he,  of  himself  says,  that  he  shall  live  in 
it  and  in  them,  and  antil  a  true  judgment  of  himself  is 
made  or  shall  arise.     He  says  : 

"  Not  marble,  nor  the  gilded  monuments 

Of  princes,  shall  outlive  this  powerful  rhyme  ; 

But  you  shall  shine  more  bright  in  these  contents 

Than  unswept  stones,  besmear'dwith  sluttish  time. 

When  wasteful  war  shall  statues  overturn, 

And  broils  root  out  the  work  of  masonry, 

Nor  Mars  his  sword  nor  war's  quick  fire  shall  burn 

The  living  record  of  your  memory. 

'Gainst  death  and  all-oblivious  enmity 

Shall  you  pace  forth  ;  your  praise  shall  still  find  room, 

Even  in  the  eyes  of  all  posterity, 

That  wear  this  world  out  to  the  ending  doom. 

So,  till  tlie  judgment  that  yourself  arise. 

You  live  in  this,  and  dwell  in  lovers'  eyes." 


GKOU^DS  OF  BELIEF. 


The  works  here  brought  niider  review  are  claimed  as 
products  of  one  and  the  same  miud,  and  that  niiud  Lord 
Bacon's. 

1.  Not  because  of  suspicious  circumstances  Inrking 
about  these  writings,  and  partiduhirly  about  the  Defoe  liter- 
ature. 

2.  Not  because  the  first  edition  of  the  Anatomy  of  Mel- 
ancholy appeared  in  158G,  when  its  alleged  author  was  but 
ten  years  of  age. 

3.  Not  because  the  supposed  author  of  the  plays  never 
appeared  in  print  outside  them,  nor  gave  producible  evi- 
dence of  his  pen  save  in  but  three  variably  spelled  and  so 
poorly  written  signatures  to  business  papers  as  to  be 
scarcely  legible. 

4.  Not  because  of  the  supreme  inconsistency  that  an 
untaught  rustic  could  have  been  author  of  "  the  finest 
specimen  of  well-sustained  allegory  in  any  language," 
the  product  being  at  the  same  time,  confessedly,  "  so 
comprehensive  as  to  form  the  best  possible  body  of  divin- 
ity." 

5.  Not  because  while  in  the  Defoe  literature  we  have  a 
most  astute  philosopher,  we  still  have  not  a  philosophy, 
but  only  the  branches  of  a  philosophy,  and  the  Baconian 
branches. 

6.  Not  because  portions  of  the  Defoe  literature  cover 
the  field  of  Natural  Theology,  which  Lord  Bacon  marked 
olf  from  Inspired  Divinity  and  made  a  distinct  branch  of 
philosophy. 

7.  Not  because  it  was  unqualifiedly  affirmed  by  Lord 
Bacon  that  he  had  completed  a  host  of  divine  works, 
though  no  such  works  have  ever  been  attributed  to  him. 


GROUNDS    OF    BELIEF.  13 

In  the  introductory  matter  to  his  crowning  work,  the 
Novum  Organum,  he  says  :  "  But  after  furnishing  the 
understanding  with  the  most  surest  helps  and  precautions, 
and  having  completed,  by  a  rigorous  levy,  a  complete  host 
o£  divine  works,  nothing  remains  to  be  done  but  to  attack 
philosophy  herself." 

8.  Not  because  he  said  he  had  "  obeyed  the  humor  of  the 
times,  and  played  the  nurse  both  with  his  own  thoughts  and 
those  of  others,"  though  no  such  writings  or  piece  of  writ- 
ing has  ever  been  attributed  to  him  ;  nor  because  he  said 
he  intended  to  write  some  patterns  of  natural  story. 

9.  Not  because  he,  in  ch.  3,  of  Book  8,  of  the  De 
Augmentis,  put  forth  in  1623,  said:  *' And  if  I  should 
hereafter  have  leisure  to  write  upon  government,  the  work 
will  probably  either  be  posthumous  or  abortive." 

10.  Not  because  there  is  to  be  found  in  portions  of  the 
Defoe  literature  a  hand  other  than  the  one  in  which  the 
body  of  the  work  is  couched. 

11.  Not  because  Lord  Bacon  expressed  a  distinct  in- 
tention to  put  forth  portions  of  his  work  under  chosen 
devices. 

13.  Not  because  his  knowledge  concerning  the  wisdom 
of  the  ancients  and  the  distinctive  nse  of  that  knowledge 
is  spread  through  all  this  literature. 

13.  Not  because  his  central  views  as  to  mythology, 
astrology,  magic,  and  apparitions  are  throughout  the 
same. 

14.  Not,  in  fact,  because  the  wide  research  of  the  one, 
and  in  all  directions,  is  the  research  of  all. 

15.  Not  because  the  opinions  on  religious,  scientific, 
social,  and  political  questions  are  the  same  in  all. 

1().  Not  because  of  the  wide  familiarity  with  legal  prin- 
ciples and  the  subtle  knowledge  concerning  courts  of 
princes  displayed  in  all. 

17.  Not  because  the  metaphors  of  the  one  are  the  meta- 
phors of  all. 

18.  Not  because  certain  adroitly  chosen  combinations  of 
words — that  is,  set  forms  of  expression,  of  the  one  are  the 
set  forms  in  all. 

19.  Not,  in  fact,  because  the  broad,  scientific,  and  dis- 
tinctively set  vocabulary  of  the  one  is  tlie  distinctive  vocab- 
nlary  of  all. 

30.  And  so  not  by  reason  of  any  one  of  tlio  foregoing  do 


14  GROUNDS   OF   BELIEF. 

we  lay  our  claim,  but  distinctly  by  reason  of  them  all, 
when  they  shall  have  been  drawn  into  their  just  and  true 
relations. 

As  these  works  are  but  masks,  so  no  change  should,  we 
think,  take  place  in  their  titles. 


WORKS   OF  REFERENCE. 


Betweei^  the  years  1594  and  1596  Sir  Francis  Bacon 
made  certain  notes  termed  "  Formularies  and  Elegances," 
and  numbering  from  1  to  1655.  They  were  found  among 
the  Harleian  collection  as  ^o.  7017.  They  have  a  farther 
division  into  folios,  the  series  beginning  with  fol.  H3  and 
ending  with  fol.  132,  and  consist  of  50  pages.  What 
became  of  the  earlier  folios,  if  there  were  any,  does  not 
appear.  All  save  some  French  proverbs,  at  the  end  of  the 
series,  are  in  Bacon's  own  hand.  It  is  stated  that  there  is 
no  record  as  to  whence  Harley  received  this  manuscript. 
The  group  has  come  to  be  distinguished  as  Bacon's  "  Pro- 
mus  of  B'ormularies  and  Elegances,"  the  word  "  Promus 
being  taken  from  one  of  the  sheets  having  this  heading. 
The  word  is  defined  by  Bacon  in  the  De  Augmentis,  ch.  2, 
Book  7.  A  description  of  them  may  be  found  in  Bacon's 
literary  works  by  Spedding,  vol.  ii.,  p.  190. 

As  Mr.  Spedding  has  given  but  comparatively  few  of 
them,  we  have  in  our  investigation  made  use  of  Mrs. 
Henry  Pott's  fine  edition,  published  by  Longmans,  Green 
&  Co.,  in  1883.  .      ^. 

We  have,  likewise,  made  use  of  the  following  :— viz.,  the 
Ellis,  Spedding,  and  Heath  editions  of  Lord  Bacon's  works, 
where  the  letters,  literary,  professional,  and  philosophical 
writings  are  in  volumes  by  themselves.  Our  investigation 
began,  however,  with  the  American  edition  of  Lord  Bacon's 
works,  in  three  volumes,  by  Basil  Montague,  and  which  we 
have  distinguished  simply  by  the  word  works,  referring  to 
volume  and  page.  Though  somewhat  poor  in  arrange- 
ment, still  this  work  is  of  much  value  in  that  it  departs 
little,  we  think,  from  the  true  phraseology  of  Bacon. 
This  not  containing  the  De  Augmentis,  the  Bolin  edition 
of  that  work  has  been  somewhat  used.     In  every  instance, 


16  WORKS   OF   REFERENCE. 

however,  reference  has  been  made  to  book  and  chapter, 
though  the  editions  somewhat  differ. 

The  Hudson  edition  of  the  Shakespeare  writings,  in 
eleven  volumes,  published,  by  Noyes,  Holmes  &  Co.,  in 
1872. 

The  twelfth  English  edition  of  the  Anatomy  of  Melan- 
choly, published  in  1821,  by  Longmans  &  Co.  and  others. 
This  twelfth  edition  contains  the  first  published  account 
of  Burton,  its  alleged  author. 

As  there  is  no  good  uniform  edition  of  Defoe's  writings 
that  contains  them  all,  we  have  made  use  of  the  Bohn 
edition  so  far  as  it  goes,  and  which  is  accessible  to  all. 
When  a  work  not  found  in  it  is  referred  to,  the  Talboy  or 
Hazlitt  edition,  each  of  which  we  have,  will  be  used,  indi- 
cating at  the  same  time  to  which  edition  it  belongs. 

In  referring  to  Addison's  ,works,  the  Bohn  edition  has 
been  used. 

We  have  used  a  small  cheap  volume  of  Swift's  writings 
found  in  the  Camelot  Classic  Series,  edited  by  Ernest 
Rhys,  and  which  those  interested  in  our  subject  would  do 
well  to  possess,  as  will  be  made  to  appear  late  in  the  work. 
That  Swift,  Defoe,  and  other  actors  in  the  scheme  of 
the  Defoe  period,  were  one  and  the  same,  so  far  as  their 
writings  are  concerned,  is  not,  we  think,  matter  of  ques- 
tion. The  mentioned  edition  not  containing  Gulliver's 
Travels,  we  have  used  the  admirable,  though  cheap  edition 
of  that  work  in  the  Gladstone  Series. 

We  have  also  used  the  cheap  Arlington  edition  of  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress.  Any  further  needful  statement  con- 
cerning the  works  under  review  may  be  found  in  the  work 
itself. 


IKTEODUOTION, 


As  the  steps  that  have  led  an  author  into  new  fields  of 
investigation,  are  commonly  matters  of  interest  to  the 
reader,  and  especially  where  the  product  stands  aside  from 
the  beaten  path  of  accepted  thought,  they  will  be  here 
somewhat  carefully  set  forth. 

Having  some  years  previous  to  the  investigation  here  set 
out,  possessed  myself  of  the  matchless  story  entitled  Eobin- 
son  Crusoe,  which  all  have  in  youth  read  with  such  de- 
light, I  turned  upon  my  heel  with  full  intent  of  renewing 
in  it  my  boyhood  ;  but  placing  the  book  upon  my  shelves, 
other  business  and  other  years  intervened,  during  which 
time  the  measured  sentences  of  Lord  Bacon,  as  embraced 
in  his  philosophical  writings,  quite  absorbed  my  leisure 
hours,  until  one  day,  casting  about  for  some  special  diver- 
sion in  books,  my  attention  again  fell  upon  my  sweet 
morsel,- which  taken  now  in  hand,  I  set  out  in  good  earnest 
upon  my  old  resolve.  I  had  not  been  long  out  in  the 
voyage — that  is,  in  the  entertainment  of  the  story,  before 
I  found  myself  in  a  kind  of  surprise  to  see  how  one,  by 
like  measured  sentences,  could  make  simple  elements  so 
plain,  foi'ceful,  and  intensely  interesting.  Something  also 
about  the  general  framework  of  the  sentences,  and  of  the 
peculiar  and  distinctive  Baconian  use  of  certain  words  and 
set  forms  of  expression,  impressed  my  mind,  which  now 
turned  instinctively,  as  it  were,  from  Crusoe  to  that  same 
narrational  style  found  in  Bacon's  New  Atlantis  ;  and 
everyAvhere  displayed  in  the  narrational  portions  of  the 
Defoe  literature.  Having  turned  to  the  New  Atlantis, 
first  published  in  1627,  the  year  following  Lord  Bacon's 
death,  I  read  its  brief  introduction  by  Dr.  Eawley  in  these 
words  : 

"  This  fable  my  lord  devised  to  the  end  that  he  might 


18  IXTRODUCTION. 

exhibit  therein  a  model  or  description  of  a  college  instituted 
for  the  interpreting  of  nature  and  the  production  of  great 
and  marvellous  works  for  the  benefit  of  men,  under  the  name 
of  Solomon's  House,  or  the  College  of  the  Six  Days'  Works. 
And  even  so  far  his  lordshij)  hath  proceeded  as  to  finish  that 
part.  Certainly  the  model  is  more  vast  and  high  than  can 
possibly  be  imitated  in  all  things,  notwithstanding  most 
things  therein  are  within  men's  power  to  effect.  His  lord- 
ship thought  also  in  this  present  fable  to  have  composed  a 
frame  of  laws  or  of  the  best  state  or  mould  of  a  common- 
wealtb  ;  but  foreseeing  it  would  be  a  long  work,  his  desire 
of  collecting  the  Natural  History  diverted  him,  which  he 
preferred  many  degrees  before  it. 

"  This  work  of  the  New  Atlantis  (as  much  as  concerneth 
the  English  edition)  his  lordship  designed  for  this  place, 
in  regard  it  hath  so  near  affinity  (in  one  part  of  it)  with 
the  preceding  Natural  History." 

Lord  Bacon  not  only  designed  the  New  Atlantis  to  fol- 
low his  Natural  History,  but  he  set  it  forth  in  his  true 
narrational  style.  Yet  it  will  be  found  to  be  the  only 
like  piece  of  composition  now  attributed  to  liim,  and  this 
not  published  unLil  after  his  death. 

The  introduction  finished,  I  directed  my  attention  to 
the  body  of  the  work,  and  by  careful  and  systematic  com- 
parison of  the  framework  of  its  sentences,  and  of  the 
peculiar  and  distinctive  use  of  certain  words,  as  well  as  of 
certain  set  forms  of  expression,  both  here  and  everywhere 
displayed  in  Bacon's  attributed  writings,  with  those  in 
Crusoe,  I  saw,  as  I  thought,  a  oneness  not  only  of  style 
but  of  individuality  ;  and  I  ask  of  the  reader  to  make  for 
himself  a  like  comparison,  as  well  before  as  after  he  shall 
have  reached  our  argument  or  true  thread  of  relations. 

I  next  turned  to  a  parliamentary  speech  by  Lord  Ba- 
con touching  the  New  Atlantis  and  the  Recovering  of 
Drowned  Mineral  Works,  and  read  as  follows  : 

"  My  Lords  and  Gentlemen  :  The  king,  my  royal 
master,  was  lately  graciously  pleased  to  move  some  dis- 
course to  me  concerning  Mr.  Sutton's  hospital  and  such 
like  worthy  foundations  of  memorable  piety,  which,  hum- 
bly seconded  by  myself,  drew  his  majesty  into  a  serious 
consideration  of  the  mineral  treasures  of  his  own  terri- 
tories, and  the  practical  discoveries  of  them  by  way  of  my 


INTEODUCTIOK.  19 

philosophical  theory  ;  which  he  then  so  well  resented  that 
afterward,  upon  a  mature  digestion  of  my  whole  design, 
he  commanded  me  to  let  your  lordships  understand  how 
great  an  inclination  he  hath  to  further  so  hopeful  a  work, 
for  the  honour  of  his  dominions,  as  the  most  probable 
means  to  relieve  all  the  poor  thereof,  without  any  other 
stock  or  benevolence  than  that  which  divine  bounty  should 
confer  on  their  own  industries  and  honest  labours,  in  re- 
covering all  such  drowned  mineral  works  as  have  been  or 
shall  be  therefore  deserted. 

"  And,  my  lords,  all  that  is  now  desired  of  his  majesty 
and  your  lordships  is  no  more  than  a  gracious  act  of  this 
present  Parliament  to  authorize  them  herein,  adding  a 
mercy  to  a  munificence,  which  is,  the  persons  of  such 
strong  and  able  petty  felons,  who,  in  true  penitence  for 
their  crimes,  shall  implore  his  majesty's  mercy  and  per- 
mission to  expiate  their  offences  by  their  assiduous  labours 
in  so  innocent  and  hopeful  a  work, 

"  For  by  this  unchargeable  way,  my  lords,  have  I  pro- 
posed to  erect  the  academical  fabric  of  this  island's  Solo- 
mon's House,  modelled  in  my  New  Atlantis.  And  I  can 
hope,  my  lords,  that  my  midnight  studies,  to  make  our 
countries  flourish  and  outvie  European  neighbours  in 
mysterious  and  beneficent  arts,  have  not  so  ungratefully 
affected  your  noble  intellects  that  you  will  delay  or  resist 
his  majesty's  desires  and  my  humble  petition  in  this 
benevolent,  yea  magnificent  affair,  since  your  honourable 
posterities  may  be  enriched  thereby,  and  my  ends  are  only 
to  make  the  world  my  heir,'  and  the  learned  fathers  of  my 
Solomon's  House  the  successive  and  sworn  trustees  in  the 
dispensation  of  this  great  service  for  God's  glory,  my 
priuce's  magnificence,  this  Parliament's  honour,  our  coun- 
tries general  good,  and  the  propagation  of  my  own  memory. 

"  And  1  may  assure  your  lordships  that  all  my  proposals 
in  order  to  this  great  archetj'pe  seemed  so  rational  and 
feasible  to  my  royal  sovereign,  our  Christian  Solomon, 
that  I  thereby  prevailed  with  his  majesty  to  call  this 
honourable  Parliament,  to  confirm  and  empower  me  in 
my  own  way  of  mining,^  by  an  act  of  the  same,  after  his 

'  Note  the  expression,  "  make  the  world  my  heir,"  in  connection 
with  the  last  line  of  sonnet  No.  6. 

^  Note  that  mining,  as  well  as  the  recovery  of  treasure  from  the 
deep,  was  to  be  included  iu^this  enterprise. 


30  INTRODUCTION". 

majesty's  more  weighty  affairs  were  considered  in  your 
wisdoms ;  both  which  he  desires  your  lordships  and  you 
gentlemen  that  are  chosen  as  the  patriots  of  your  respec- 
tive countries  to  take  speedy  care  of  ;  which  done,  I  shall 
not  then  doubt  the  happy  issue  of  my  undertakings  in  this 
design,  whereby  concealed  treasures,  which  now  seem  ut- 
terly lost  to  mankind,  shall  be  confined  to  so  universal  a 
piety,  and  brought  into  use  by  the  industry  of  converted 
penitents,  whose  wretched  carcasses  the  impartial  laws  have 
or  shall  dedicate  as  untimely  feasts  to  the  worms  of  the 
earth,  in  whose  womb'  those  deserted  mineral  riches  must 
ever  lie  buried  as  lost  abortments,  unless  those  be  made 
the  active  midwives^  to  deliver  them.  For,  my  lords, 
I  humbly  conceive  them  to  be  the  fittest'  of  all  men  to 
effect  this  great  work,  for  the  ends  and  causes  which  I 
have  before  expressed. 

"  All  which,  my  lords,  I  humbly  refer  to  your  grave  and 
solid  judgments  to  conclude  of,  together  with  such  other 
assistances  to  this  frame*  as  your  own  oraculous  wisdom 
siiall  intimate,  for  the  magnifying  our  Creator  in  ])is  in- 
scrutable providence  and  admirable  works  of  nature." 
(Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  4G3.) 

After  reading  this  speech  by  Bacon  touching  the  New 

'  In  Hamlet  we  have  the  expression,  the  ■"  extorted  treasure  in  the 
womb  of  earth."  Note  throughout  these  writings  the  use  of  the 
word  "  womb"  as  a  figure  of  speech,  and  particularly  in  the  Shake- 
speare literature. 

"This  use  by  Bacon  of  the  word  "midwife"  is  distinctive  and 
unusual.  It  will  be  found  many  times  in  Defoe  and  three  times  la 
.  his  Jure  Diviuo.     From  its  third  book  we  give  the  following  : 

"  The  fluttering  wind  of  incoherent  thought, 
Midwifed  by  reason,  brings  contrivance  out ; 
She  foims  from  things  incongruous  and  dull, 
And  hews  the  man  of  sense  out  from  the  fool  ; 
For  thought's  a  vapour  fluid  and  unfix'd, 
With  inconsistent  clouds  of  fancy  mix'd  ; 
But  when  condensed  by  reason,  and  reduced, 
Science  and  argument  are  soon  infused." 

We  shall  later  have  occasion  to  draw  this  word  more  sharply  into 
relation. 

^  Note  everywhere  the  constant  use  of  the  word  "fit"  and 
"fittest." 

^  Note,  in  like  manner,  the  use  of  the  word  "  frame,"  and  par- 
ticularly in  the  Shakespeare  literature. 


INTRODUCTION^'.  .  21 

Atlantis,  we  turned  to  p.  87,  vol.  i.,  of  the  Anatomy  of 
Melancholy,  put  forth  subsequent  to  his  fall,  and  read  as 
follows  : 

"  I  will  yet,'  to  satisfy  and  please  myself,  make  an  Utopia, 
of  mine  own,  a  new  Atlantis,  a  poetical  commonwealth  of 
mine  own,  in  which  1  will  freely  domineer,  build  cities, 
make  laws,  statutes,  as  I  list  myself.     And  why  may  I 
not  ?—]nctoribus  atque  poetis,  etc.    Yon  know  what  liberty 
poets  ever  had  ;  and,  besides,  my  predecessor  Democritus 
was  a  politician,  a  recorder  of  Abdera,  a  law-maker,  as 
some  say  ;  and  why  may  not  I  presume  so  much  as  he 
did:     Howsoever,  1  will  adventure."     For  the  site,  if  you 
will  needs  urge  me  to  it,  I  am  not  fully  resolved  :  it  may 
be  in  Terra  Australia  Incognita;  there  is  room  enough 
(for,  of  my  knowledge,  neither  that  hungry  Spaniard  nor 
MercuriusBritannicus  have  yet  discovered  half  of  it)  ;  or 
else  one  of  those  floating  islands  in  Mare  del  Zur,  which, 
like  the  Cyanean  isles  in  the  Euxine  Sea,  alter  their  place, 
and  are  accessible  only  at  set  times,  and  to  some  few  per- 
sons ;  or  one  of  the  Fortunate  Isles  ;  for  who  knows  yet 
where  or  which  they  are  ?     There  is  room  enough  in  the 
inner  parts  of  America  and  northern  coasts  of  Asia.     But 
I   will  choose  a  cite    whose   latitude  shall  be  45  degrees 
(I  respect  not  minutes),  in  the  midst  of  the  temperate 
zone,  or  perhaps  nnder  the  equator,  that  paradise  of  the 
world  %ihi  semper  virens  laurus,  etc.,  where  is  a  perpetual 
spring.     The  longitude,'  for  some  reasons,  I  will  conceal. 
Yet  he  it  known  "to  all  men  lij  these  presents,  that  if  any 

'  Note  the  expression,  "  I  will  yet,"  as  though  some  original  de- 
sign had  failed. 

■■*  This  word  "adventure"  will  be  found  a  distinctive  Baconian 
word,  and  spread  everywhere  in  this  literature.  In  his  expostulatory 
letter  to  Lord  Coke  (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  34)  Bacon  says  :  "  This  letter, 
if  it  shall  be  answered  by  you  in  deed  and  not  in  word,  I  suppose  it 
will  not  be  the  worse  for  us  both  ;  else  it  is  but  a  few  lines  lost 
which  for  a  smaller  matter  I  would  adventure."  In  Romeo  and 
Juliet,  Act  11.,  so.  2,  p.  68,  we  have  : 

"  I  am  no  pilot  ;  yet  wert  thou  as  far 
As  that  vast  shore  wash'd  by  the  farthest  sea, 
I  would  adventure  for  such  merchandise." 

Bacon's  Promus  Note,  "  584  :  Good  watch  cliaseth  ill-adventure.' 

3  Note  for  future  reference  that  the  longitude  was  to  be  con- 
cealed. Note  also  the  words,  "  Mare  del  Zur"  and  "  Terra  Australia 
Incognita." 


22  INTRODUCTION. 

honest  gentleman  will  send  in  so  much  money  as  Cardan' 
allows  an  astrologer  for  casting  a  nativity,  he  shall  be  a 
sharer  ;  I  will  acquaint  him  with  my  project  ;  or,  if  any 
Avorthy  man  will  stand  for  any  temporal  or  spiritual  oftice 
or  dignity  (for,  as  he  said  of  his  archbishoprick  of  Utopia, 
'tis  sanctus  amhihis,  and  not  amiss  to  be  sought  after),  it 
shall  be  freely  given  without  alP  intercessions,  bribes,  let- 
ters, etc.,  his  own  worth  shall  be  the  best  spokesman  ;  and 
(because  we  shall  admit  of  no  deputies  or  advowsons)  if  he 
be  sufficiently  qualified,  and  as  able  as  willing  to  execute 
the  place  himself,  he  shall  have  present  possession.  It 
shall  be  divided  into  twelve  or  thirteen  provinces  ;  and 
those,  by  hills,  rivers,  rode-ways,  or  some  more  eminent 
limits,  exactly  bounded." 

Here  follow  views  for  many  pages  as  to  this  model  gov- 
ernment. Its  thirteen  divisions  will,  in  number,  be  found 
the  same  as  mentioned  in  the  New  Atlantis.  Bacon's  de- 
sire to  frame  laws  for  such  a  government  will  api)ear  in 
our  already  quoted  introduction  to  that  work. 

The  end  to  be  secured  by  this  enterprise  may  be  gath- 
ered from  the  page  preceding  that  just  quoted,  which  is 
in  these  words  : 

"  yls  Hercules^  purged  the  world  of  monsters  and  sub- 

'  In  connection  with  Bacon's  knowledge  of  astrology  and  magic, 
we  note  that  he  was  acquainted  with  Cardan  as  an  author.  In  his 
mentioned  letter  to  Coke  we  have  :  "  Cardan  saith  that  weeping, 
fasting,  and  sighing  are  the  chief  purges  of  grief  ;  indeed,  naturally 
the_v  do  assuage  sorrow,"  etc.     (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  488.) 

"^  The  expression  "  without  all,"  as  here  used,  is  certainly  distinc- 
tive and  unusual,  but  is  spread  into  every  phase  of  this  literature. 
Bacon,  in  the  Advancement  of  Learning  (Philosophical  "Works,  vol. 
iii.,  p.  273),  says  :  "  Again,  for  that  other  conceit  that  learning 
should  undermine  the  reverence  of  laws  and  government,  it  is 
assuredly  a  mere  depravation  and  calumny  without  all  shadow  of 
truth."  He  also  uses  the  expression  "without  all  controversy;" 
"  without  all  fiction  ;"  "  without  all  life  ;"  '"  without  all  remorse,  "etc. 
In  The  Anatomy  of  Abuses,  p.  151  and  195,  w^e  have  "  without 
all  remorse;"  "without  all  doubt."  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
p.  229,  we  have  "  without  all  doubt."  In  Macbeth,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2, 
p.  289,  we  have  "  without  all  remedy."  In  All's  Well  that  Ends 
Well,  Act  ii.,  sc.  3.  p.  312,  we  have  "  without  all  terms  of  pity."  In 
the  A.  D.  B.  mask  we  in  the  preface  have  "  without  all  sigh,"  and, 
p.  43,  "  without  all  controversy." 

^  Bacon  says  :  "  And  knowledge  referred  to  some  particular  point 
of  use  is  but  as  Harmonides,  which  putteth  down  one  tyrant,  and 
not  like  Hercules,  wiio  did  perambulate  the  world  to  suppress  tyrants 
and  giants  and  monsters  of  every  kind.   ( Phil.  Works,  vol.  iii. ,  p.  222.) 


INTRODUCTION.  23 

diied  them.,  so  did  Tie  Jight  against  envy,  lust,  anger,  ava- 
rice, etc.,  and  all  those  feral  vices  and  monsters  of  the  mind. 
It  were  to  be  wished'  we  had  some  such  visitor,  or  (if 
wishing  would  serve)  one  had  such  a  ring  or  rings  as 
Timohiiis  desired  in  Lucian,°  by  virtue  of  which  he 
should  be  as  strong  as  ten  thousand  men  or  an  army  of 
giants,  go  invisible,  open  gates  and  castle  doors,  have 
what  treasure  he  would,  transport  himself  in  an  instant  to 
what  place  he  desired,  alter  affections,  cure  all  manner  of 
diseases,  that  he  might  range  over  the  world,  and  reform 
all  distressed  states  and  persons,  as  he  would  himself/ 
He  might  reduce  those  wandering  Tartars  in  order,  that 
infest  China  on  the  one  side,  Muscovy,  Poland,  on  the 
other  ;  and  tame  the  vagabond  Arabians  that  rob  and  spoil 
those  Eastern  countries,  that  they  should  never  use  more 
caravans  or  janizaries  to  conduct  them.  He  might  root 
out  barbarism  out  of  America  and  fully  discover  Terra 
Australis  Incognita  ;  find  out  the  north-east  and  north- 
west passages  ;  drean  tliose  mighty  M^otian  fens  ;  cut 
down  those  vast  Hercynian  woods,  irrigate  those  barren 
Arabian  deserts,  etc.,  cure  us  of  our  epidemical  diseases — 
scorbutum,  ^jlica,  morbus  Neapolitanus,  etc. — end  all  our 
idle  controversies  ;  cut  off  our  tumultuous  desires,  inordi- 
nate lusts  ;  root  out  atheism,  impiety,  heresy,  schism  and 
superstition,  which  now  so  crucify  the  world  ;  catechise 
gross  ignorance  ;  purge*  Italy  of  luxury  and  riot,  Spain  of 
superstition  and  Jealousy,  Germany  of  drunkenness,  all 
our  northern  countries  of  gluttony  and  intemperance  ; 
castigate  our  hard-hearted  parents,  masters,  tutors  ;  lash 
disobedient  children,  negligent  servants  ;  correct  these 
spendthrifts  and  prodigal  sons  ;  enforce  idle  persons  to 
work  ;  drive  drunkards  oif  the  ale-house  ;  repress  thieves, 
visit  corrupt  and  tyrannizing  magistrates,  etc." 

'The  expression  "It  were  to  be  wished"  was  frequentl}^  em- 
ployed by  Bacon. 

'•^  It  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  with  Lord  Bacon  Lucian  was  a 
prominent  figure,  as  what  one  of  these  autliors  had  read,  they  had 
all  read.     More  properly  speaking,  they  were  all  Bacon's  products. 

^  As  to  the  expression  "  as  he  would  himself,"  see  uote  1,  p.  25. 

*  Note  throughout  these  writings  this  oft  used  word  "purge." 
Note  also  that  Bacon's  vocabulary'  has  not  one  set  of  words  for  mental, 
and  another  for  physical,  operations.  Again,  the  rule  is,  and  which 
has  assisted  our  in^stigations,  that  when  Bacon  has  placed  a  word, 
that  is  his  word  for  that  place. 


24  INTRODUCTIONS". 

From,  the  New  Atlantis  and  our  reflections  concerning 
it,  our  thoughts  turned  to  a  well-remembered  letter  ad- 
dressed by  Lord  Bacon  in  early  life  to  his  uncle,  Lord 
Burghley,  then  High  Treasurer  of  England,  asking  official 
position  ;  and  which  we  then  took  occasion  to  turn  to  and 
here  give  in  full  for  the  benefit  of  the  reader  ;  ?or  though 
the  New  Atlantis  serves  as  an  entering  wedge  which  will 
be  struck  later  in  the  work,  this  letter  serves  as  a  kind  of 
opening  and  continuing  headlight  to  what  we  have  pur- 
posed in  this  investigation.     It  is  in  these  words  : 

"  My  Lord  :  With  as  much  confidence  as  mine  own  honest 
and  faithful  devotion  unto  your  service  and  your  honorable 
correspondence  unto  me  and  my  poor  estate  can  breed*  in 
a  man,  do  I  commend  myself  unto  your  lordship.  I  wax 
now  somewhat  ancient  :  one  and  thirty  years  is  a  great 
deal  of  sand  in  the  hour-glass.  My  health,  I  thank  God, 
I  Qnd  confirmed  ;  and  I  do  not  fear  that  action  shall  im- 
pair it,  because  I  account  my  ordinary  course  of  study  and 
meditation  to  be  more  painful  than  most  parts  of  action 
are.  I  ever  bear  a  mind  (in  some  middle  place"  that  I 
could  discharge)  to  serve  her  majesty,  not  as  a  man  born 
under  Sol,  that  loveth  honour,  nor  under  Jupiter,  that 
loveth  business  (for  the  contemplative  planet  carrieth  me 
away  wholly),  but  as  a  man  born  under  an  excellent  sov- 
ereign that  deserveth  the  dedication  of  all  men's  abilities. 
Besides,  I  do  not  find  in  myself  so  much  self-love  but  that 
the  greater  parts  of  my  thoughts  are  to  deserve  well  (if 
I  were  able)  of  my  friends,  and  namely  of  your  lordship,  who, 
being  the  Atlas^  of  this  commonwealth,  the  honour  of  my 

^  Note,  and  particularly  ia  the  plays,  the  use  of  the  word  "  breed," 
to  indicate  increase  in  any  form.  In  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  Act  i., 
sc.  3,  p.  41,  we  have  : 

"  If  thou  wilt  lend  this  money,  lend  it  not 
As  to  thy  friends  ;  (for  when  did  friendship  take 
A  breed  of  barren  metal  of  his  friend  ?) 
But  lend  it  rather  to  thine  enemy  ; 
Who,  if  he  break,  thou  may'st  with  better  face 
Exact  the  penalty." 

^  Note  in  all  this  literature  the  words  "  middle  place,"  and  "  mid- 
dle region. "  The  two  extremes  are  the  rocks  and  the  gulf.  The 
thought  takes  its  rise  in  his  interpretation  of  the  fable  entitled  "  Scylla 
and  Iscarus  ;  or,  The  Middle  Way." 

^  In  the  introduction  to  the  A.  D.  B.  mask  will  be  found  this  use  of 


INTRODUCTION.  25 

house,  and  the  second  founder  of  my  poor  estate,  I  am 
tied'  by  all  duties,  both  of  a  good  patriot,  and  of  an  un- 
worthy kinsman,  and  of  an  obliged  servant,  to  employ 
whatsoever  I  am,  to  do  you  service.  Again,  the  meanness 
of  my  estate  doth  somewhat  move  me  ;  for  though  I  can- 
not accuse  myself  that  I  am  either  prodigal  or  slothful, 
yet  my  health  is  not  to  spend  nor  my  course  to  get. 
Lastly",  I  confess  that  I  have  as  vast  contemplative  ends  as 
I  have  moderate  civil  ends  f  for  I  have  taken  all  knowl- 
edge to  be  my  providence  ;'  and  if  I  could  purge  it  of  two 
sorts  of  rovers,  whereof  the  one,  with  frivolous  disputations, 
confutations,  and  verbosities,  the  other,  with  blind  experi- 
ments and  auricular  traditions  and  impostures,  hath  com- 
mitted so  many  spoils,"  I  hope  I  should  bring  in  industrious 
observations,  grounded  conclusions,  and  profitable  inven- 
tions and  discoveries— the  best  state  of  that  providence. 
This,  whether  it  be  curiosity,  or  vainglory,  or  nature,  or 
(if  one  take  it  favorably)  philanthropia,  is  so  fixed  in  my 

the  word  Atlas  in  the  expression,  "Yea,  the  very  business,  and 
(under  God)  the  Atlas  of  his  nation."  And  in  Henry  VI..  part  6, 
Act  v.,  sc.  1,  p.  437,  we  have  : 

"  War.  Thou  art  uo  Atlas  for  so  greats  weight  : 

And,  weakling,  Warwick  takes  his  gift  again  ; 

And  Henry  is  my  King,  Warwick  his  subject." 

»  Note  everywhere  the  use  of  this  word  "  tie"  and  "  tied."  In 
the  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  Act  iii.,  sc.  1,  p.  450,  we  have  : 

"  Binn.  Why,  gentlemen,  you  do  me  double  wrong. 
To  strive  for  that  which  resteth  in  my  choice  : 
I  am  no  breeching  scholar  in  the  schools  ; 
I'll  not  be  tied  to  hours,  nor  'pointed  times. 
But  learn  my  lessons  as  I  please  myself." 

In  The  Winter's  Tale,  Act  v.,  sc.  1,  p.  127,  we  have  : 

"  I  am  sorry. 
Most  sorry,  you  have  broken  from  his  liking, 
Where  you  were  tied  in  duty  ;  and  as  sorry. 
Your  choice  is  not  so  rich  in  worth  as  beauty, 
That  you  might  well  enjoy  her." 
^  Note  throughout  this  literature  a  distinctive  use  of  this  word 
"ends."  ,, 

3  This  distinctive  and  unusual  use  of  the  word  "  providence  we 
shall  later  have  occasion  to  review. 

■«  We  have  here  an  allusion,  we  think,  to  time  already  expended 
upon  the  subjects  of  magic,  astrology,  and  apparitions,  later  to  be 
considered. 


20  INTRODUCTION. 

mind  as  it  cannot  be  removed.  And  I  do'  easily  see 
that  place  of  any  reasonable  countenance  doth  bring  com- 
mandment of  more  wits  than  a  man's  own  ;  which  is  the 
thing  I  greatly  effect.  And  for  your  lordship,  perhaps 
you  shall  not  find  more  strength  and  less  encounter  in  any 
other.  And  if  your  lordship  shall  find  now,  or  at  any 
time,  that  I  do  seek  or  effect  any  place  whereunto  any 
that  is  nearer  unto  your  lordship  shall  be  concurrent,  say 
then  that  I  am  a  most  dishonest  man.  And  if  your  lord- 
ship will  not  carry  me  on,  I  will  not  do  as  Anaxagoras  did, 
Avho  reduced  himself  with  contemplation  unto  voluntary 
poverty,  but  this  I  will  do — I  will  sell  the  inheritance  that  I 
have,  and  purchase  some  lease  of  quick  revenue  or  some 
office  of  gain  that  shall  be  executed  by  deputy,  and  so  give 
over^  all  care  of  service,  and  become  some  sorry  book-maker 
or  a  true  pioneer  in  that  mine  of  truth  which  (he  said)  lay 
so  deep.  This  which  I  have  writ  unto  your  lordship  is 
rather  thoughts  than  words,  being  set  down  without  all 
art,^  disguising,  or  reservation  ;  wherein  I  have  done 
honour  both  to  your  lordship's  wisdom,  in  judging  that 
that  will  be  best  believed  of  your  lordship  which  is  truest  ; 
and  to  your  lordship's  good  nature,  in  retaining  nothing 
from  you.  And  even  so  I  wish  your  lordship  all  happi- 
ness, and  to  myself  means  and  occasion  to  be  added  to  my 

^  Note,  and  seemingly  for  mere  emphasis,  Bacon's  oft  use  of  this 
verb  "  do,"  and  its  same  use  throughout  the  pLiys. 

■•'  Note  throughout  tlie  expression  "  give  over,"  and  particularly 
in  the  stories  of  Defoe  ;  in  other  words,  in  the  narrational  portions 
of  this  literature.  In  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  250,  we  have  :  "  My  lion 
having  given  over  roaring  for  some  time,  I  find  that  several  stories 
have  been  spread  abroad  in  the  country  to  his  disadvantage."  In 
the  play  of  Pericles,  Act  iv.,  sc.  3,  p.  348,  we  have  : 

"  Pctnd.  Three  or  four  thousand  chequins  were  as  pretty  a  pro- 
portion to  live  quietly,  and  so  give  over. 

"  Bawd.  Why  to  give  over,  I  pray  you  ?  is  it  a  shame  to  get  when 
we  are  old  ?" 

^  Note  the  expression  "  without  all  art."  Already  have  we  called 
attention  to  this  Baconianism.  In  Macbeth,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  289, 
we  have  : 

"  Things  without  all  remedy 
Should  be  without  regard  :  what's  done,  is  done." 

In  All's  Well  that  Ends  Well,  Act  ii.,  sc.  3,  p.  312,  we  have  : 

"  Without  all  terms  of  pity  :  speak  ;  thine  answer." 

And  in  Addison,  vol.  v.,  p.  118,  we  have  "  without  all  controversy." 


INTRODUCTION".  27 

faithful  desire  to  do  you  service.'  From  my  lodging  at 
Gray's  Inn."     (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  1.) 

Did  he  sell  the  inheritance  ?  Did  he  become  the  "  sorry 
book-maker?"  He  certainly  did  not  get  the  position,  nor 
does  he  appear  to  have  secured  any,  at  leust  of  a  political 
nature,  until  some  sixteen  years  later,  this  letter  having 
been  written  in  1592. 

The  impression  produced  upon  a  mind  such  as  we  shall 
find  Burleigh  to  have  possessed  by  these  high  pretensions, 
from  a  young  man  of  but  thirty-one  years,  may  well  be 
imagined.  He  doubtless  thought  tliem  as  impudently  in- 
consistent as  our  own  claims  may  now  appear  to  many  of 
our  readers,  and  yet  how  truly  and  fully  did  he  fulfil  them 
to  men.  This  letter,  and  drawn  forth  by  his  necessities, 
contains,  so  far  as  we  know,  the  first  intimation  from  Lord 
Bacon's  pen  as  to  the  great  conceptions  and  purposes 
wiiich  lay  in  his  mind,  and  its  key-note  is,  "I  have  taken 
all  knowledge  to  be  my  providence." 

This  distinctive  use  of  the  word  ''providence"  will  later 
be  called  under  review.  The  letter  finished,  we  turned  to 
the  introduction  of  our  book  Crusoe,  and  there  found, 
though  not  credited,  that  the  work  had  been  claimed  as  a 
product  of  the  pen  of  Sir  Eobert  Harley,  our  noted  manu- 
scri])t  collector  and  first  Earl  of  Oxford,  during  his  im- 
prisonment in  the  Tower  on  a  charge  of  high  treason  in 
1714,  soon  after  the  accession  of  George  the  First  to  the 
English  throne,  and  where  he  remained  in  confinement 
nearly  two  years,  and  whose  political  tool  Defoe,  the  now 
accredited  author  of  Crusoe,  was,  as  we  shall  see. 

'  To  show  that  Bacon  made  use  of  his  Promus  notes,  we  give  the 
following  ; 

Promus,  116.  Wishing  you  all,  etc.,  and  myself  occasion  to  do 
you  service. 

Promus.  117.  I  shall  be  glad  to  understand  your  news,  but  none 
rather  than  some  overture  wherein  I  may  do  you  service. 

Note  this  proffer  of  service  throughout  the  Shakespeare  writings. 

In  Timon  of  Athens,  Act  v.,  sc.  1,  p.  112,  we  have  : 

"  Both.  What  we  can  do,  we'll  do,  to  do  you  service." 
In  Hamlet,  Act  ii.,  sc.  2,  p.  247,  we  have  : 

"  Ouil.  But  we  both  obey  ; 

And  here  give  up  ourselves,  in  the  full  bent. 
To  lay  our  service  freely  at  your  feet. 
To  be  commanded." 


28  INTRODUCTION'. 

The  work  was  tliouglit  to  have  been  prompted  by  the 
solitude  of  a  prison,  and  especially  its  last  chapter,  where 
reference  is  made  to  the  exiled  nobles  of  Muscovy.  But 
we  remembered,  if  that  were  necessary,  that  another  and 
greater  than  Harley,  one  whose  writings  oft  refer  to  Mus- 
covy, had  through  a  like  political  tempest  been  to  the 
Tower ;  one,  many  of  whose  manuscripts  are  now  to  be 
found  among  the  Harleian  collection,  and  no  less  a  person 
than  Sir  Francis  Bacon.  To  the  writer  Crusoe  indicates 
not  merely  reform,  but  chiefly  new  and  basal  purposes  of 
operation.  Referring  in  Sonnet  119  to  his  troubles,  Bacon 
says  : 

"  What,  potions  have  I  drunk  of  siren  tears, 
Distill'd  from  limbecks  foul  as  hell  within, 
Applying  fears  to  hopes,  and  hopes  to  fears, 
Still  losing  when  I  saw  myself  to  win  ! 
What  wretched  errors  hath  my  heart  committed, 
Whilst  it  hath  thought  itself  so  blessed  never  ! 
How  have  mine  eyes  out  of  their  spheres  been  fitted 
In  the  distractit)u  of  this  madding  fever  ! 
O  benefit  of  ill  !  now  I  find  true 
That  better  is  by  evil  still  made  better  ; 
And  ruin'd  love,  when  it  is  built  anew, 
Grows  fairer  than  at  first,  more  strong,  far  greater. 
So  I  return  rebuk'd  to  my  content, 
And  gain  by  ill  thrice  more  than  I  have  spent." 

In  the  allegory  of  Crusoe  we  may  indeed  see  represented 
the  difficulties  in  reaching  the  island  of  trtith,  and  of  new  be- 
ginnings thereon,  and  the  work  may  tiot  inaptly  be  regarded 
as  a  kind  of  nucleus  of  that  which  the  New  Atlantis  is  cap- 
stone. Bacon  says  :  "  For  an  immense  ocean  encompasses 
the  island  of  truth,  and  men  have  still  to  endure  new 
dangeTs  and  scatterings  from  the  winds  of  idles."  But 
notwithstanding  the  oneness  of  style  between  Crusoe  and 
the  New  Atlantis,  I  still  saw  the  seemingly  insurmountable 
difficulty  that  ninety-three  years  had  intervened  between 
the  death  of  Lord  Bacon  and  the  first  publication  of 
Crusoe,  in  1719,  Lord  Bacon  having  died  in  1626.  From 
many  data,  however,  I  still  had  an  impression,  though 
one  which  I  must  say  seemed  as  ridiculously  absurd  to 
myself  as  it  doubtless  now  does  to  many  of  my  readers. 
It  was  sufficient,  however,  to  entice  a  nibbling  investigation 
still,  as  it  was  not  impossible  for  my  impressions  to  be 
true.  I  felt  conscious  of  this  fact,  that  while  the  style, 
vocabl^lary,  distinctive  phraseology,  and  individualism  of 


INTRODUCTIOiT.  29 

nse,  of  two  authors  may  approach  each  other  very  closely 
in  certain  directions,  that  still  there  coukl  not  be  identity, 
and  especially  as  to  the  wide  range  of  subtle  matter  fringed 
in  and  through  these  forms. 

Again,  there  is  a  kind  of  physiognomy  in  a  man's  lan- 
guage as  well  as  in  his  face.  As  individualism  gives  ges- 
ture both  to  body  and  features,  so  does  it  give  style  in 
language.  The  selection  also  of  a  man's  words  as  wellas 
their  use  discovers  him,  so  also  do  rich  gifts  and  wide 
mental  acquirements.  But  it  will  be  found  that  our  in- 
vestigation stays  but  partially  here  for  proofs. 

Being  now  launched  instinctively,  as  it  were,  in  the 
investigation,  1  purposed  to  know  the  truth,  and  early 
found  that  the  language  characteristics  alluded  to,  and  in 
a  marked  degree,  ran  through  the  entire  body  of  the  Bacon, 
Shakespeare,  Burton,  and  Defoe  literature;  whereupon  I 
entered  mv  investigations  in  other  fields,  and  especially  in 
tbat  of  philosophy,  and  everywhere  found  a  like  oneness 
of  individuality,  and  finally  reached  the  island  of  truth,  so 
to  speak,  and  became  satisfied  ;  and  I  purpose  to  lay  my 
foundations  so  broad  and  deep  in  this  investigation  that 
the  reader  shall  be  satisfied,  not  merely  that  Lord  Bacon 
was  the  author  of  Crusoe,  but  that  he  was  the  author  of  near- 
ly all  of  the  so-called  Defoe  literature,  little  if  any  of  which 
was  issued  under  Defoe's  hand,  and  v/hich  literature  will 
be  found  to  shed  great  light,  not  merely  upon  the  life, 
character,  and  attributed  writings  of  Lord  Bacon,  but  also 
upon  the  history  of  his  times  ;  as  well  as  to  put  a  new  face 
upon  the  Defoe  period. 

When  I  became  fully  conscious  of  my  discovery,  and  of 
the  value  that  must  result  by  revival  of  interest  in  these 
admirable  writings — these  branches  of  a  literature,  of  a 
philosophy — when  restored  to  their  true  relations,  I  will 
not  pretend  to  conceal  from  the  reader  the  fact  of  an  ex- 
isting desire  on  my  part  to  claim  my  right  as  first  discov- 
erer, or  pioneer,  in  restoring  them  to  their  true  place  ;  not 
merely  in  our  literature,  but  in  that  great  system  of  philos- 
ophy of  which  they  form  a  part.  And  I  then  prepared 
and  caused  to  be  published  in  the  leading  daily  journal  at 
my  then  residence  the  notice  following,  a  copy  of  which 
was  likewise  sent  to  the  New  York  World,  but  not  pub- 
lished, and  due,  doubtless,  to  the  conceived  inconsistency 
of  the  claim.     The  notice  was  in  these  words  : 


30  INTRODUCTION. 

"  BACON,  SHAKESPEARE,  DEFOE. 

"  By  a  somewhat  careful  examination  of  the  Bacon- 
Shakespeare  controversy  during  the  past  two  years,  I  have 
been  led  into  a  branch  of  the  Held  which,  so  far  as  I  am 
aware,  has  never  been  broaclied  by  any  one.  I  will,  there- 
fore, in  due  time  put  forth  material  which  must  demon- 
strate the  fact  that  the  renowned  works  entitled  Robinson 
Crusoe,  the  New  Atlantis,  and  the  Tempest,  are  products 
of  one  and  the  same  mind.  Laugh,  therefore,  as  yon  will, 
but  keep  off  the  grounds.  Rochester,  Oct.  24,  1887. — 
J.  E.  Roe." 

Having  impressions,  though  immature,  as  to  methods 
and  reasons  for  staying  this  literature  from  tlie  public — 
see  title  Ilarley  and  Defoe — and  having  at  the  outset  pos- 
sessed myself  of  many,  and  hiter  of  the  entire  works  under 
review,  I  set  myself  in  good  earnest  to  my  task,  early  de- 
termining, however,  to  make  my  investigation  somewhat 
broader  than  as  outlined  in  my  notice,  and  we  now  invite 
the  reader  upon  a  pleasant  hunting  excursion  into  the 
fields  of  this  literature.  As  we  enter  more  definitely  upon 
our  subject,  we  would  distinguish  the  idea  that  our  notes 
are  intended  to  be  of  equal  importance  with  the  text  itself  ; 
and  if  retained  for  future  use  they  will  make  the  reader 
himself  a  discoverer  of  points  made  in  them  ;  and  espe- 
cially as  to  language  features  falling  under  review  as  we 
advance.  It  was  from  the  first  apparent  that  the  dates 
to  the  original  manuscripts,  if  they  bore  dates — note  how 
many  of  Bacon's  attributed  letters  and  writings  do  not 
— had  been  so  changed  as  to  conform  them  to  the  times 
when  they  were  actually  put  forth.  But  we  found  that 
not  only  had  the  dates  been  changed,  but  that  in  some 
of  them  a  hand  other  than  the  one  in  which  they  were 
originally  couched  was  apparent,  and  that  matter  of  such 
a  nature  had  beeu  interpolated  into  some  of  them  as  to 
thwart  our  theory  ;  for  instance,  in  Defoe's  History  of 
the  Devil,  views  expressed  in  Milton's  Paradise  Lost  are 
brought  under  review,  and  which  had  not  come  into 
print  until  after  the  death  of  Lord  Bacon.  This  could 
be  explained  consistently  with  the  Baconian  theory  only 
by  saying  that  Bacon,  either  as  author  or  otherwise,  was 
familiar   with    that    manuscript    before    its    publication. 


INTRODUCTION.  31 

This  objection,  if  it  shall  prove  to  be  one,'  is  at  once  neu- 
tralized when  we  come  to  consider  that  these  writings 
have,  in  a  measure  been  tampered  with,  and  which  fact 
of  itself  must  throw  doubts  on  Defoe's  claims,  or  rather 
those  made  for  him.  Mr.  Lee,  Defoe's  most  compre- 
hensive biographer,  is  forced  to  admit  that  there  is  to 
be  traced,  in  at  least  a  portion  of  this  literature,  a  hand 
evidently  not  Defoe's.  That  portion  of  the  History  of 
the  Devil  treated  under  the  head  of  the  Political  History 
of  the  Devil,  is,  we  judge,  considerably  garbled.  But 
as  a  whole  the  work  will  be  found  to  throw  much 
light  upon  Lord  Bacon's  religious  and  other  opinions,  as 
well  as  upon  his  distinctive  aims  in  anatomizing  to  the 
view  the  allurements  of  vice,  as  set  out  in  his  Defoe's 
Eoxana,  Moll  Flanders,  and  in  his  so-called  Shakespeare 
plays,  to  the  end  that  their  true  workings  may  be  seen, 
reflected  upon,  and  hence  avoided.  And  thus  are  we  re- 
minded of  our  Head-light,  "  For  I  have  taken  all  knowledge 
to  be  my  providence." 

It  was  a  distinctive  belief  with  Lord  Bacon  that  protec- 
tion here,  as  everywhere,  rests  not  in  that  mere  innocency 
that  springs  from  ignorance,  but  rests  rather  in  knowledge, 
in  the  bonds  of  Proteus  ;  in  other  words,  in  art  over 
nature.  And  so  in  his  Meditationes  Sacra^  (AVorks,  vol.  i,, 
p.  67)  he  says  :  "  To  a  man  of  a  perverse  and  corrupt  judg- 
ment all  instruction  or  persuasion  is  fruitless  and  contempti- 
ble which  begins  not  with  discovery  and  laying  open  of 
the  distemper  and  ill  complexion  of  the  mind  which  is  to 
be  recured  ;  as  a  plaster^  is  unseasonably  applied  before 
the  wound  be  searched  ;  for  men  of  corrupt  understanding, 
that  have  lost  all  sound  discerning  of  good  and  evil,  come 
possessed  with  this  prejudicate  opinion,  that  they  think 

1  In  the  works  of  Addison,  Bacon  will  be  found  to  be  his  own  critic. 
His  critic's  chair  of  the  De  Augmentis  he  himself  occupied.  Ad- 
dison's works  consist  almost  entirely  of  short  essays  of  from  one  and 
a  half  to  two  and  a  half  pages  each,  and  many  of  them  contain  crreat 
subtlety.  As  to  the  articles  upon  Milton,  we  will  but  say  that  they 
show  tlie  mind  of  an  architect.  They  not  only  state  what  in  its  vari- 
ous phases  that  author  has  wrought,  but  give  his  purpoj^es  therein. 
They  note  that  author's  change  in  his  own  style,  in  order  to  reach 
desired  effects.  This  is  all  that  we  care  to  say  at  this  time  upon  the 
subject,  as  we  have  not  passed  Milton's  works  under  review  in  this 
investigation. 

*  Note  the  use  in  all  of  the  works  under  reviev/  of  the  words 


32  INTRODUCTION". 

all  honesty  and  goodness  proceedetli  out  of  a  simplicity  of 
manners  and  a  kind  of  want  of  experience  andunacquaint- 
ance  with  the  affairs  of  the  world.  Therefore,  except  they 
may  perceive  that  those  things  which  are  in  their  hearts, 
that  is  to  say,  their  own  corrupt  principles  and  the  deep- 
est reaches  of  their  cunning  and  rottenness,  to  be  thor- 
oughly sounded  and  known,  to  him  that  goes  about'  to 
persuade  with  them,  they  make  but  a  play  of  the  words  of 
wisdom.*  Therefore  it  behoveth  him  which  aspireth  to  a 
goodness  (not  retired  or  particular  to  him,  but  a  fructify- 
ing and  begetting  goodness  which  shoiihl  draw  on  others) 
to  know  those  points,  wiiich  be  called  in  the  Revelation 
the  deeps  of  Satan,  that  he  may  speak  with  authority  and 
true  insinuation.'  Hence  is  the  precept  '  Try  all  things, 
and  hold  that  which  is  good  ;'  which  endureth  a  discern- 
ing election  out  of  an  examination  whence  nothing  at  all 
is  excluded  ;  out  of  the  same  fountain  ariseth  that  direc- 
tion, '  Be  you  as  wise  as  serpents  and  innocent  as  doves.' 
There  are  neither  teeth,  nor  stings,  nor  venom,  nor 
wreaths  and  folds  of  serpents,  which  ought  not  to  be  all 
known,  and,  as  far  as  examination  doth  lead,  tried  ;  neither 
let  any  man  here  fear  infection  or  pollution,  for  the  sun 
entereth  into  sinks  and  is  not  defiled  ;  neither  let  any  man 
think  that  herein  he  tempted  God,  for  his  diligence  and 
generality  of  examination  is  commanded,  and  God  is  suffi- 
cient to  preserve  you  immaculate  and  pure."  * 

"salve"  and  "  plaster."    In  the  play  of  The  Tempest,  Act  ii.,  sc.  1, 

p.  48,  we  have  : 

"  Goti.  My  lord  Sebastian, 

The  truth  you  speak  dotli  lack  some  gentleness, 
And  time  to  speak  it  in  ;  you  rub  the  sore. 
When  you  should  bring  the  plaster." 

*  Note  throughout,  and  as  here  used,  the  expression  "that  goes 
about."     In  Hamlet,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  296,  we  have  : 

"  O,  the  recorders  !— let  me  see  one. — To  withdraw  with  you  : — 
Why  do  you  go  about  to  recover  the  wind  of  me,  as  if  you  would 
drive  me  into  a  toil  ?" 

In  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  Act  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  334,  we  have  : 
"  I  have  had  a  dream, — past  the  wit  of  man  to  say  what  dream  it 
was  :  Man  is  but'an  ass,  if  he  go  about  to  expound  this  dream." 

*  Promus,  230.  (A  fool  receivetli  not  the  words  of  understand- 
ing, unless  you  shall  say  the  things  that  are  in  his  heart.)  Is  there 
not  an  apparent  effort  in  the  plays  to  disclose  every  phase  of  the 
human  heart  ? 

^  Promus,  1124.  (She  is  chaste  whom  no  one  has  solicited.) 

*  See  Novum  Organum,  book  i.,  aph.  120. 


INTRODUCTION.  33 

Let  the  foregoing  be  again  carefully  reread  in  connection 
with  the  following  from  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  139. 

"  There  is  nothing  which  one  regards  so  much  with  an 
eye  of  mirth  and  pity  as  innocence  when  it  has  in  it  a  dash 
of  folly.  At  the  same  time  that  one'  esteems  the  virtue, 
one  is  tempted  to  laugh  at  the  simplicity  which  accom- 
panies it.  When  a  man  is  made  up  wholly  of  the  dove,^ 
without  the  least  grain  of  the  serpent  in  his  composition, 
he  becomes  ridiculous  in  many  circumstances  of  life,  and 
very  often  discredits  his  best  actions.  The  Cordeliers  tell 
a  story  of  their  founder,  St.  Francis,  that  as  he  passed  the 
streets  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening  he  discovered  a  young 
fellow  with  a  maid  in  a  corner  ;  upon  which  the  good 
man,  say  they,  lifted  up  his  hands  to  heaven  with  a  secret 
thanksgiving,  that  there  was  still  so  much  Christian  charity 
in  the  world.  The  innocence  of  the  saint  made  him  mis- 
take the  kiss  of  a  lover  for  a  salute  of  charity.  I  am 
heartily  concerned  when  I  see  a  virtuous  man  without  a 
competent  knowledge  of  the  world  ;  and  if  there  be  any 
use  of  these  my  papers,  it  is  this,  that  without  representing 
vice  under  any  false,  alluring  notions,  they  give  my  reader 
an  insight  into  the  ways  of  men,  and  represent  human 
nature  in  all  its  changeable  colours.  The  man  who  has 
not  been  engaged  in  any  of  the  follies  of  the  world,  or,  as 
Shakespeare  expresses  it,  '  hackneyed  in  the  ways  of  men,' 
may  here  find  a  picture  of  its  follies  and  extravagances. 
The  virtuous  and  the  innocent  may  know  in  speculation 
what  they  could  never  arrive  at  by  practice,  and  by  this 
means  avoid  the  snare  of  the  crafty,  the  corruptions  of  the 

'  As  bearing  upon  the  date  of  these  writings,  we  from  Addison, 
vol.  vi.,  p.  734,  quote  as  follows  :  "  Addison  is  with  justice  esteemed 
the  best  model  for  the  easy,  correct  style  of  prose  composition.  He 
is,  however,  the  last  of  the  classic  English  authors  who  lias  made 
use  of  one,  a  man,  as  pronouns  ;  as  in  these  phrases,  one  sees,  a  man 
Qbserces,  the  latter  entirely  obsolete  and  the  former  nearly  so.  This 
phraseology  prevails  generally  throughout  his  prose  works." 

^  Concerning  this  use  of  the  word  "  dove,"  appearing  in  the  plays 
and  throughout  this  literature,  we  from  Bacon's  Meditationes  Sacrae 
quote  thus  :  "  The  spirit  of  Jesus  is  tiie  spirit  of  the  dove  ;  these 
servants  of  God  were  as  the  oxen  of  God  treading  out  the  corn  and 
trampling  the  straw  down  under  their  feet  ;  but  Jesus  is  the  Lamb 
of  God,  without  wrath  or  judgments  ;  all  his  miracles  were  con- 
summate about  man's  body,  as  his  doctrine  respected  the  soul  of 
man,"  etc.  (Worlis,  vol.  i.,  p.  67.)  Promus,  41.  (Censure  extends 
pardon  to  ravens  (but)  bears  hard  on  doves.)     ^ 

2 


34  INTRODUCTION. 

vicious,  and  the  reasonings  of  the  prejudiced.  Their 
minds  may  be  opened  without  being  vitiated." 

Again,  in  the  Advancement  of  Learning  ("Works,  vol.  i., 
p.  223),  Bacon  says  :  "  For  as  the  fable  goeth  of  the  basilisk,* 
that  if  he  see  you  first,  you  die  for  it  ;  but  if  you  see  him 
first,  he  dieth  ;  so  it  is  with  deceits  and  evil  arts  ;  which, 
if  they  be  first  espied,  they  lease  their  life  ;  but  if  they 
prevent,  they  endanger.  So  that  we  are  much  beholden 
to  MachiaveP  and  others  that  write  what  men  do,  and  not 
what  they  ought  to  do.  For  it  is  not  possible  to  join  ser- 
pentine wisdom  with  the  columbine  innocency,  except  men 
know  exactly  all  the  conditions  of  the  serpent — his  base- 
ness and  going  upon  his  belly,  his  volubility  and  lubricity, 
his  envy  and  sting,  and  the  rest — that  is,  all  forms  and 
natures  of  evil  ;  for  without  this,  virtue  lieth  open  and 
unfenced.^  ^•dj,  an  honest  man  can  do  no  good  upon 
those  that  are  wicked,  to  reclaim  them,  without  the  help 
of  the  knowledge  of  evil." 

It  may  thus  be  seen  to  have  been  Bacon's  opinion  that 
as  an  educator,  evil  in  its  secret  depths  should  be  wrought 
to  the  view.     In  the  inlays  distinctive  forms  or  patterns  of 

'  This  word  basilisk  will  be  found  an  oft  used  word  in  the  plays. 
And  in  Defoe's  "  History  of  the  Devil  "  we  at  p.  510  have  the  ex- 
pression, "and,  indeed,  the  poison  of  her  eyes  (basilisk-like)  is 
very  strong,  and  she  has  a  strange  influence  upon  me." 

-  ^lachiavel  was  a  noted  political  writer  of  the  Italian  school,  and 
is  often  referred  to  by  Bacon  in  his  works.  And  in  Addison,  vol. 
iv.,  p.  97,  we  have  :  "  The  politics  which  are  most  cultivated  by  this 
society  of  she-Machiavels  relate  chiefly  to  these  two  points.  How 
to  treat  a  lover  and  how  to  manage  a  husband."  In  the  mentioned 
History  of  the  Devil,  p.  288,  we  have  :  "  Our  old  friend  Machiavel 
outdid  him  in  many  things,  and  I  may  in  the  process  of  this  work  give 
an  account  of  several  of  the  sons  of  Adam,  and  some  societies  of  them, 
too,  who  have  outwitted  tlie  Devil  ;  nay,  who  have  outshined  the 
Devil ;  and  that,  I  think,  may  be  called  outshooting  him  in  his  own 
bow."  We  here  have  Bacon's  expression,  "out-shoot  him  in  his 
own  bow."  In  the  plays  we  have  such  expressions  as  "  the  shes  of 
Italy,"  "the  crudest  she  alive."  etc.;  in  the  foregoing  "she- 
Machiavels"  and  in  sub.  852  of  Bacon's  Natural  Historj'-  we  have, 
"  Generally  the  hes  in  birds  have  the  finest  feathers,"  "  the  shes  are 
smooth,"  "doves  he  and  she." 

*  This  use  by  Bacon  of  the  word  "fence,"  as  applied  to  moral 
qualities,  is  distinctive  and  unusual.  In  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  120, 
we  have  :  "  If  modesty  has  so  great  an  influence  over  our  actions, 
and  is  in  many  cases  so  impregnable  a  fence  to  virtue,  what  can  more 
undermine  morality  than  that  politeness  which  reigns  among  the 
unthinking  part  of  mankind,  and  treats  as  unfashionable  the  most 


INTRODUCTION.  35 

evil  are  thus  vividly  presented.     As  to  evil  being  an  edu- 
cator, see  Sonnet  119,  p.  28. 

In  the  play  of  Henry  VI.,  part  3,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  396, 
Gloster.  or  Richard,  as  to  the  mentioned  words  "  basilisk'* 
and  "  Machiavel,"  is  made  to  say  : 

"  Why.  I  can  smile,  and  murder  while  I  smile, 
And  cry,  content,  to  that  which  grieves  my  heart, 
And  wet  my  cheeks  with  artificial  tears. 
And  frame  my  face^  to  all  occasions. 
I'll  drown  more  sailors  than  the  mermaid  shall ; 
I'll  slay  more  gazers  than  the  basilisk  ; 
I'll  play  the  orator  as  well  as  2sestor, 
Deceive  more  slily  than  Ulysses'-  could, 
And,  like  a  Sinon,  take  another  Troy  : 
I  can  add  colours  to  the  chameleon, 
Change  shapes,  with  Proteus^,  for  advantages, 
And  set  the  murderous  Machiavel  to  school. 
Can  I  do  this,  and  cannot  tret  a  crown ';" 


ingenious  part  of  our  behaviour  :  which  recommends  impudence  as 
good  breeding,  and  keeps  a  man  always  in  countenance  not  because 
he  is  innocent,  but  because  it  is  shameless.'"  And  in  the  Anatomy  of 
Melancholy,  vol.  ii.,  p.  79,  we  have  : 

"  Virtue  and  integrity  are  their  own  fence. 
Care  not  for  envy  or  what  comes  from  thence." 
Bacon  speaks   likewise  of   the   eyelashes  as  a  fence  to  the  sight. 
And  in  the  play  of  Henry  VI.    part  8,  Act  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  411,  we  have  : 
"  Let  us  be  back'd  with  God,  and  with  the  seas 
"Which  He  hath  given  for  fence  impregnable, 
And  with  their  helps  only  defend  ourselves  : 
In  them,  and  in  ourselves,  our  safety  lies." 

*  Promus,  1041.  (Although  what  prevents  one  from  speaking 
truth  with  a  laughing  face  ?)  Promus.  Qdo.  (To  bear  two  faces 
under  a  hood.)  Promus,  1023.  (Keep  your  strength  back,  and 
displa\"  no  eloquence  in  your  face.)  We  find  Bacon  using  the  ex- 
pressions "the  face  of  truth,"  "  the  face  of  error,''  "  the  outward 
face  of  peace,"  "  the  face  of  a  school  and  not  the  world."  He  also 
says  :  "  Men  likewise  in  their  folly  expect  to  become  acquainted  with 
nature  from  her  out  ward  face  and  mask,  and  by  external  resemblances 
to  detect  internal  properties."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  203.)  Same 
Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  253,  he  says  :  "  But  bj-  the  help  and  ministry  of 
man  a  new  face  of  bodies,  another  universe  or  theatre  of  things,  comes 
into  view." 

^  Promus,  463.  (Ulysses  sly  in  speech.)  841.  (Ulysses  doffed 
his  rags.  Of  a  sudden  change  of  life  from  poverty  to  riches,  from 
sad  to  merry.)  In  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  173,  we  have  :  "  My  paper 
among  the  republic  of  letters  is  the  Ulysses  his  bow,  in  which  every 
man  of  wit  or  learning  may  try  his  strength." 

^  Promus,     794.    Chameleon,    Proteus,   Euripus.     This   word   is 


36  IlfTRODUCTION. 

Distinct  views  held  by  Bacon  as  to  vice  may  here  be 
seen  ;  as  well  as  the  whole  range  of  purpose  to  be  accom- 
plished by  the  mentioned  works  and  those  of  their  class, 
Shakespeare  included.  Again,  were  the  sex  elements  in 
the  Defoe  literature  wrought  into  form,  in  order,  in  the 
first  instance,  to  serve  as  primary  steps  or  foundations  for 
more  subtle  embodiment,  either  in  the  plays  or  elsewhere? 

Bacon  says  these  evil  arts  must  in  their  subtlety  be  all 
known  to  him  who  would  be  the  true  teacher.  Were 
these  the  methods  in  which  he  "obeyed  the  humour  of 
the  times  and  played  the  nurse  with  his  own  thoughts  and 
those  of  others  ?"  From  the  preface  of  Moll  Flanders  we 
give  tlie  following  :  "  But  as  this  work  is  chiefly  recom- 
mended to  those  who  know  how  to  read  it,  and  how  to 
make  the  good  uses  of  it  which  the  story  all  along  recom- 
mends to  them,  so  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  such  readers  will 
be  much  more  pleased  with  the  moral  than  the  fable,  with 
the  application  than  with  the  relation,  and  with  the  end 
of  the  writer  than  with  the  life  of  the  person  written  of." 
Again  :  "  The  advocates  for  the  stage'  have  in  all  ages 
made  this  the  great  argument  to  persuade  people  that 
their  plays  are  useful,  and  that  they  ought  to  be  allowed 
in  the  most  civilized  and  in  the  most  religious  govern- 
ment ;  namely,  that  they  are  applied  to  virtuous  purposes, 
and  that  by  the  most  lively  representations  they  fail  not 

handled  the  same  throughout  this  literature.  Bacon  says:  "We 
must  thus  endeavour  to  bind  nature  as  a  Proteus  ;  for  the  various 
species  of  motions,  duly  discovered  and  methodically  discriminated, 
may  he  regarded  as  the  true  bonds  to  tie  this  Proteus  withal." 
(Works,  vol.  i.,  409.)  Note  the  use  of  this  word  in  the  A.  D.  B. 
Mask,  in  the  Anatomy  of  Al)uscs,  while  in  tlie  Anatomy  of  Mel- 
ancholy, vol.  i.,  p.  293,  we  have:  "They  are  irregular,  obscure, 
various,  so  infinite,  Pi'oteus  himself  is  not  so  diverse ;  you  may  as 
well  make  the  moon  a  new  coat  as  a  ti-ue  character  of  a  melancholy 
man  ;  as  soon  find  the  motion  of  a  bird  in  the  air  as  the  heart  of  a 
man,  a  melancholy  man." 

1  In  the  De  Augmentis,  book  ii.,  ch.  13,  Bacon  says  :  "  Dramatic 
Poesy,  which  has  the  theatre  for  its  world,  would  be  of  excellent 
use  if  well  directed.  For  the  stage  is  capable  of  no  small  influence 
both  of  discipline  and  of  corruption.  Now  of  corruptions  in  this 
kind  we  have  enough  ;  but  the  discipline  has  in  our  times  been  plain- 
ly neglected.  And  though  in  modern  states  stage-playing  is  esteemed 
but  as  a  toy,  except  when  it  is  too  satirical  and  biting,  yet  among  the 
ancients  it  Was  used  as  a  means  of  educating  men's  minds  to  vir- 
tue." (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  316.)  And  see  upon  this  subject  Ad- 
dison, vol.  iii.,  pp.  450-453. 


INXRODUCTION".  37 

to  recommend  virtue  and  generous  principles,  and  to  dis- 
courage and  expose  all  sorts  of  vice  and  corruptioti  of 
manners  ;  and  were  it  true  that  they  did  so,  and  that  they 
constantly  adhered  to  that  rule,  as  the  test  of  their  acting 
on  the  theatre,  much  might  be  said  in  their  favour." 

"  Throughout  the  infinite  variety  of  this  book  this 
fundamental  is  most  strictly  adhered  to  ;  there  is  not  a 
wicked  action  in  any  part  of  it  but  is  first  or  last  rendered 
unhappy  and  unfortunate  ;  there  is  not  a  superlative  vil- 
lain brought  upon  the  stage'  but  either  he  is  brought  to 
an  unhappy  end  or  brought  to  be  a  penitent ;''  there  is 
not  an  ilP  thing  mentioned  but  it  is  condemned,  even  in 
the  relation,  nor  a  virtuous  just  thing  but  it  carries  its 
praise  along  with  it." 

And  from  the  preface  of  Eoxana,  a  work  written  to  show 
prosperous  vice,  we  have  :  "lb  is  true  she  met  with  un- 

'  In  his  charge  in  the  noted  O^erbury  case  Bacon  says  :  "  But  to 
come  to  the  present  case  :  Tiie  great  frame  of  justice  (my  lords)  in 
this  present  action  hath  a  vault,  and  it  hath  a  stage  ;  a  vault  wherein 
these'works  of  darkness  were  contrived  ;  and  a  stage,  with  steps,  by 
which  they  were  brought  to  light."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  v.,  p.  299.) 
Note  in  Defoe's  History  of  the  Devil,  p.  316,  where  antiquity  is  brought 
upon  the  stage  ;  and  at  p.  453,  where  Mahomet  is  brought  upon  the 
stage.  Note  also  the  stage  as  mentioned  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
at  pp.  304,  305,  and  wiiere  it  is  said  :  "  This  stags  was  built  to  punish 
those  upon,  who,  through  timorousness  or  mistrust,  shall  be  afraid 
to  go  farther  on  pilgrimage." 

*  This  w-as  Bacon's  word,  and  without  synonyms,  and  it  occurs 
throughout  all  this  literature.  See  Bacon's  Speech,  already  quoted. 
In  "  Measure  for  Measure,"  Act  iv.,  sc.  2,  p.  100,  we  have  :  "  Shave 
the  head  and  dye  the  beard  ;  and  say,  it  was  the  depireof  the  penitent 
to  be  so  bar'd  before  his  death  :  You  know  the  course  is  common." 
In  "  All's  Well  that  Ends  Well,"  Act  iii.,  sc.  5,  p.  335,  we  have  : 

"  Wild.  The  troop  is  past  :  Come,  pilgrim,  I  will  bring  you 
Where  you  shall  host  :  of  enjoin'd  penitents 
There's  four  or  five,  to  great  St.  Jaques  bound, 


Where  you  shall  host  :  or  en^om  d  penitents 
There's  four  or  five,  to  great  St.  Jaques  bound, 
Already  at  my  house." 


^  Note  throughout  this  use  of  the  word  "ill."  Promus,  608. 
(Good  dreams,  ill  waking.)  1223.  You  could  not  sleep  for  your 
ill  lodging.  1072.  (There  is  nothing  so  good  that  it  may  not 
be  perverted  by  reporting  it  ill.)  974.  He  that  hath  an  ill  name 
is  half  hanged.  860.  Fame'<5  campus  (an  ill  house  kept.  I'Tis 
field  of  famine.)  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  80,  we  have : 
"If  we  have  such  ill  speed  at  our  first  setting  out,  what  may  we 
expect  between  this  and  our  journey's  end?"  And  on  p.  368  we 
have  :  "  But  so  far  as  I  could  learn,  he  came  to  an  ill  end  with  his 
by-ends  ;  nor  did  I  ever  hear  that  any  of  his  children  were  ever  of 


38  INTRODUCTION. 

expected  success  in  all  her  wicked  courses  ;  but  even  in 
the  highest  elevations  of  her  prosperity  she  makes  fre- 
quent acknowledgments  that  the  pleasure  of  her  wicked- 
ness was  not  worth  the  repentance  ;  and  that  all  the  satis- 
faction she  had,  all  the  joy  in  the  view  of  her  prosperity, 
no,  nor  all  the  wealth  she  rolled  in,  the  gaiety  of  her  ap- 
pearance, the  equipages  and  the  honours  she  was  attended 
with,  could  quiet  her  mind,  abate  the  reproaches  of  her 
conscience,  or  procure  her  an  hour's  sleep  when  just 
reflections  kept  her  waking."  ' 

There  seems  to  be  an  aim  in  these  works  to  show  that 
so  long  as  there  is  desire  remaining  for  a  better  life  that 
the  door  of  mercy  is  not  closed.  They  in  another  view 
should  be  read  in  connection  with  Bacon's  interpretation 
of  the  fable  entitled  "  Dionysus,  or  Bacchus."  See  De 
Augraentis,  Book  II.,  ch.  13. 

Hence,  those  who  have  censured  the  works  of  Eoxana 
and  Moll  Flanders,  by  reason  of  the  working  of  sex  ele- 
ments to  the  view,  may  see  the  design  which,  not  Defoe, 
but  their  real  author  had  in  them. 

If  it  be  objected  that  more  freedom  of  expression  is  in- 
dulged in,  in  the  non-attributed  than  in  the  attributed 
writings,  two  things  should  be  carefully  borne  in  mind  : 
1.  That  the  assuming  of  a  mask  of  itself  gave  greater  free- 
dom, and  hence  this  was  doubtless  one,  if  not  the  chief 
reason,  for  assuming  it.  2.  The  attributed  writings  are  the 
ultimate  and  polished  products  of  that  which  had  gone 
through  different  stages  on  its  way  to  completion.  As  the 
lusts  of  the  flesh  are  in  the  mentioned  works  normally 
disclosed  and  somewhat  anatomized,  so  is  the  lust  for  gold 
in  his  Defoe's  "  Captain  Singleton,"  "  Captain  Jack," 
and  others. 

In  these  works  Bacon  sought,  through  entertainment, 
to  draw  and  fix  the  attention  to  the  end,  that,  once  secured, 
instruction  might  follow.  In  his  article  entitled  "  Of 
the  Interpretation  of  Nature"  (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  553),  he 
says  :    "  Now    if   any    one    deem    that    scrupulous    care 

any  esteem  with  any  that  truly  feared  God."  In  AMison,  vol.  iii., 
p.  357,  we  have  :  "  Cheerfulness  in  an  ill  man  deserves  a  harsher 
name  than  language  can  furnish  us  with,  and  is  many  degrees  beyond 
what  we  commonly  call  folly  or  madness." 

'  As  to  the  expression  "  kept  her  waking,"  Bacon,  in  Sub.  239  of 
his  Natural  History,  says  :  "  We  see  also  that  those  that  teach  birds 
to  sing  do  keep  them  waking  to  increase  their  attention." 


INTRODUCTION.  39 

with  which  we  strive  to  prepare  men's  minds  is  uncalled 
for,  that  it  is  of  the  nature  of  parade,  and  got  up  for 
purposes  of  display,  and  should  therefore  desire  to  see 
denuded  of  all  circumlocution  and  the  scaffolding  of  pre- 
liminaries, a  simple  statement  ;  assuredly  such  an  insinu- 
ation, were  it  founded  in  truth,  would  come  well  recom- 
mended to  us.  Would  that  it  were  as  easy  for  us  to  con- 
quer difficulties  and  obstructions  as  to  cast  away  idle 
pomp'  and  false  elaboration.  But  this  we  would  have 
men  believe,  that  it  is  not  within  due  exploration  of  the 
route  that  we  pursue  our  path  in  such  a  desert,  especially 
having  in  hand  such  a  theme  ;  as  it  were  monstrous  to 
lose  by  incompetent  handling,  and  to  leave  exposed,  as  by 
an  unnatural  mother.  Wherefore,  duly  meditating  and 
contemplating  the  state  both  of  nature  and  of  mind,  we 
find  the  avenues  to  men's  understandings  harder  of  access 
than  to  things  themselves,  and  the  labour  of  communi- 
cating not  much  lighter  than  of  excogitating  ;  and,  there- 
fore, which  is  almost  a  new  feature  in  the  intellectual 
world,  we  obey  the  humour  of  the  time,  and  play  the 
nurse,  both  with  our  own  thoughts  and  those  of  others." 

But  in  what  work  now  attributed  to  Lord  Bacon  did  he, 
and  as  "  almost  a  new  feature  in  the  intellectual  world," 
obey  the  humour  of  the  times,  and  play  the  nurse  both 
with  his  own  thoughts  and  those  of  others?  And  thus 
much  here  upon  this  thought,  though,  to  use  a  Baconian 
expression,  "  more  remains  behind." 

While  some  of  these  writings,  as  Crusoe  and  a  "  New 
Voyage  Round  the  World,"  were  produced  late  in  life, 
others,  again,  were  probably  produced  prior  to  our  head- 
light, the  mentioned  letter  to  Lord  Burghley.  The  fol- 
lowing from  that  letter,  "  Lastly,  I  confess  that  I  have  as 
vast  contemplative  ends  as  I  have  moderate  civil  ends  ; 
for  I  have  taken  all  knowledge  to  be  my  jirovidence  ;  and 
if  I  could  purge  it  of  two  sorts  of  rovers,  whereof  the  one 
with  frivolous  disputations,  confutations,  and  verbosities, 
the  other  with  blind  experiments  and  auricular  traditions 

'  Note  throughout  the  use  of  this  word  "  pomp,"  and  particu- 
larly in  the  plays.     In  Hamlet,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  284,  we  have  : 

No  ;  let  the  candid  tongue  lick  absurd  pomp, 
And  crook  the  pregnant  hinges  of  the  knee, 

Wliprp  Ihrift.    mn\T   f<iUr>\jtr  fanriiiiiiT   " 


xviiu  uruuii  iiiB  preguam  iimges  oi 
Where  thrift  may  follow  fawning 


40  INTEODUCTION. 

and  impostures,  hath  committed  so  many  spoils  ;'  I  hope 
I  should  bring  in  industrious  observations,  grounded  conclu- 
sions, and  profitable  inventions  and  discoveries,  the  best 
state  of  that  providence,"  contains  allusions,  we  think,  to 
labor  already  expended  upon  that  portion  of  the  Defoe 
literature  devoted  to  the  weeding  of  the  subjects  of  astrol- 
ogy, divination,  and  magic  ;  and  as  embraced  in  his  Defoe's 
History  of  Duncan  Campbell,  A  System  of  Magic,  and  the 
History  and  Reality  of  Apparitions,  Much  in  Bacon's 
attributed  writings  may  be  found  upon  these  subjects. 
Read  please  in  this  connection,  ch.  4  of  Book  III.  and 
ch.  3  of  Book  IV.  of  the  De  Augmentis.  He  closes  ch.  2 
of  Book  III.  in  these  words  :  "  And  thus  it  is  as  lawful  in 
natural  theology^  to  investigate  the  nature  of  evil  spirits 
as  the  nature  of  poisons  in  physics  or  the  nature  of  vice 
in  morality.  But  this  part  of  knowledge  relating  to  angels 
and  spirits,  which  we  call  the  appendage  to  natural  theol- 
ogy, cannot  be  noted  for  deficient,  as  having  been  handled 
by  many  ;  but  we  may  justly  tax^  no  small  part  of  the 
writers  in  this  way,  either  with  levity,  superstition,  or 
fruitless  si3eculation." 

The  work  entitled  "  The  Storm,"  put  forth  by  Defoe  in 
1704,  while  a  prisoner  in  Newgate,  is  indeed  a  garbled 
piece  of  work,  though  its  earliest  pages,  save  an  interline- 
ation or  two,  are  unquestionably  from  Lord  Bacon's  pen, 
as  may  readily  be  seen  by  comparison,  both  as  to  subject- 
matter  and  style,  with  Bacon's  "  History  of  the  Winds" 
and  other  like  writings  concerning  the  winds.  Of  the  six 
divisions  of  the  Great  Instauration  the  De  Augmentis 
constitutes  the  first,  and  which  is  but  a  rewriting  of  the 

'  In  the  New  Atlantis  Bacon  says  :  "  We  have  also  houses  of  deceits 
of  the  senses  ;  where  we  represent  all  manner  of  feats  of  juggling, 
false  apparitions,  impostures,  and  illusions  ;  and  their  fallacies." 
(Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  269.) 

"  Note  here  Lord  Bacon's  use  of  the  words  "  natural  theology"  in 
connection  witii  his  already  alluded-to  statement  that  he  had  com- 
pleted a  host  of  divine  works. 

^  Note  this  use  of  the  word  "  tax"  throughout  this  literature.     In 
"  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,"  Act  ii.,  sc.  8,  p.  182,  we  have  : 
"  Baltli.  O  !  good  my  lord,  tax  not  so  bad  a  voice 
To  slander  music  any  more  than  once." 

In  "As  You  Like  It,"  Act  ii.,  sc.  7,  p.  186,  we  have  : 

"  Jaq.  Why,  who  cries  out  on  pride. 
That  can  therein  tax  any  private  party  ?" 


INTRODUCTION".  41 

Advancement  of  Learning  in  later  years  to  fit  it  for  its 
place  in  the  system  ;  the  Novum  Organum  is  the  second, 
and  the  Natural  and  Experimental  History  is  the  third.* 
This  History,  to  represent  the  six  days'  works  alluded  to  in 
the  already  quoted  introduction  to  the  New  Atlantis,  was 
divided  by  Lord  Bacon  into  six  sections — viz.,  History  of 
the  Winds  ;  History  of  Density  and  Rarity  ;  History  of 
Heavy  and  Light ;  History  of  Sympathy  and  Antipathy  ; 
History  of  Sulphur,  Mercury,  and  Salt ;  and  History  of 
Life  and  Death. 

To  Lord  Bacon's  mind  the  winds  seem  to  have  been  the 
most  inexplicable  of  all  natural  and  material  things. 
Hence  his  History  of  the  Winds  is  placed  first  in  the  men- 
tioned Natural  History,  and  which  history,  through  his 
methods,  was  to  expand,  as  he  thought,  by  the  additions 
of  posterity,  into  that  gigantic  tree  of  experimental  science 
and  philosophy  which  was  to  be  the  utility  of  the  ages. 
By  his  scheme  of  the  New  Atlantis  he  hoped  to  organize  a 
central  head  that  might  guard,  guide,  and  bear  it  forward, 
himself  therein  leaving  the  model  by  which  its  course  was, 
in  a  measure,  to  be  shaped.  But  it  was  too  large  for  the 
race.  Though  its  gains  from  it  have  been  great,  still  they 
have  not  been  at  all  in  the  lines  of  its  methods,  but  rather 
by  collateral  nibblings  therefrom. 

The  mentioned  work,  "  The  Storm,"  opens  in  these 
words  : 

"Though  a  system  of  exhalation,  dilation,  and  exten- 
sion, things  which  the  ancients  founded  the  doctrine  of 
winds  upon,  be  not  my  direct  business,  yet  it  cannot  but 
be  needful  to  the  present  design  to  note,  that  the  ditfer- 
ence  in  the  opinions  of  the  ancients  about  the  nature  and 
originaP  of  winds  is  a  leading  step  to  one  assertion  which 
1  have  advanced  in  all  that  I  have  said  with  relation  to 
winds — viz.,  that  there  seems  to  be  more  of  God  in  the 

'  Concerning  this  Natural  History,  he,  in  the  introductory  matter 
to  the  Novum  Organum,  saj's  :  "  For,  in  the  first  place,  we  begin 
Avith  that  species  of  natural  history  which  is  not  so  much  calculated 
to  amuse  by  the  variety  of  its  objects,  or  to  offer  immediate  results 
by  its  experiments,  as  to  throw  a  light  upon  the  discovery  of  causes, 
and  to  present,  as  it  were,  its  bosom  as  the  first  nurse  of  philosophy." 
(Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  340.)  Note  that  his  Natural  History  was  to  be 
the  nurse,  the  very  bosom,  to  philosophy. 

'^  This  use  of  the  word  original  will  be  found  throughout  this 
literature.    In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  161,  we  have  :  "  This  fair  is 


42  INTRODUCTION. 

whole  appearance  than  in  any  other  part  of  operating 
nature. 

"  Nor  do  I  think  I  need  explain  myself  very  far  in  this 
notion  ;  I  allow  the  high  original  of  nature  to  be  the  Great 
Author  of  all  her  actings,  and  by  the  strict  reign  of  his 
providence  is  the  continual  and  exact  guide  of  her  execu- 
tive power  ;  but  still  it  is  plain  that  in  some  of  the  prin- 
cipal parts  of  nature  she  is  naked'  to  our  eye.  Things 
appear  both  in  their  causes  and  consequences,  demonstra- 
tion gives  its  assistance,  and  finishes  our  further  inquiries  ; 
for  we  never  inquire  after  God  in  those  works  of  nature 
which,  depending  upon  the  course  of  things,  are  plain  and 
demonstrative  ;  but  where  we  find  nature  defective  in  her 
discovery,  where  we  see  effects  but  cannot  reach  their 
causes,^  there  it  is  most  just,  and  nature  herself  seems  to 
direct  us  to  it,  to  end  the  rational  inquiry  and  resolve  it 
into  speculation  ;  nature  plainly  refers  us  beyond  herself, 
to  the  mighty  hand  of  infinite  power,  the  author  of  nature 
and  original  of  all  causes. 

"■  Among  these  Arcana  of  the  sovereign  fficonom\%  the 
winds  are  laid  as  far  back  as  any.  Those  ancient  men  of 
genius  who  rifled  nature  by  the  torchlight  of  reason,  even 
to  her  very  nudities,  have  been  run  a-ground  in  this  un- 
known channel  ;  the  wind  has  blown  out  the  candle  of 
reason,  and  left  them  all  in  the  dark." 

We  omit  here  a  paragraph  which  we  think  contains  some 
interpolations,  and  continue  :  "  This  is  what  I  quote  them 
for,  and  this  is  all  my  argument  demands  ;  the  deepest 
search   into   the   region   of    cause    and  consequence   has 

no  new-erected  business,  but  a  thing  of  ancient  standing.  I  will 
show  you  the  original  of  it."  In  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  384,  we  have  : 
"  The  first  original  of  the  drama  was  a  religious  worship  consisting 
only  of  a  chorus,  which  was  nothing  else  but  an  hymn  to  a  deity." 
In  Henry  IV..  part  2,  Act  i.,  sc.  2,  p.  324,  we  have  : 

"  Fed.  It  hath  its  original  from  much  grief  ;  from  study,  and  per- 
turbation of  the  brain." 

'  We  shall  find  that  Bacon  originally  couched  his  philosophy  under 
the  cover  of  certain  ancient  fables  as  interpreted  by  himself  in  his 
"  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients,"  and  among  which  Cupid  served  to  ex- 
plain the  origin  of  things;  and  so  concerning  the  word  "naked," 
Bacon  of  Cupid  says  :  "  Most  truly  also  is  he  represented  as  naked  ; 
for  all  compounds  (to  one  that  considers  them  rightly)  are  masked 
and  clothed  ;  and  there  is  nothing  properly  naked,  except  the  primary 
principles  of  things."    (Bacon's  Literary  Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  731.) 

"^  Promus,  227.    (Upon  wondering  men  begin  to  philosophize.) 


INTEODUCTION.  43 

found  out  just  enough  to  leave  the  wisest  philosopher  in 
the  dark,  to  bewilder  his  head  and  drown  his  understand- 
ing.' You  raise  a  storm  in  nature  by  the  very  inquiry  ; 
and  at  last,  to  be  rid  of  yon,  she  confesses  the  truth  and 
tells  you,  '  It  is  not  in  me  ;  you  must  go  home  and  ask  my 
Father.' 

"  Whether,  then,  it  be  the  motion  of  air  and  what  that 
air  is,  which  as  yet  is  undefined  ;  whether  it  is  a  dilation, 
a  previous  contraction,  and  then  violent  extension,  as  in 
gunpowder  ;  whether  the  motion  is  direct,  circular,  or 
oblique  ;  whctlier  it  be  an  exhalation  repulsed  by  the  middle 
region'  and  the  antiperistatis  of  that  part  of  the  heavens 

'  Note  throughout  this  distinctive  Baconian  use  of  the  word 
"drown."  In  a  letter  to  the  king  in  1617  Bacon  says:  "Now, 
therefore,  not  to  hold  your  majesty  with  many  words,  which  do  but 
drown  matter,  let  me  most  humbly  desire  your  majesty  to  take  into 
your  royal  consideration  that  your  state  is  at  this  time  not  only  in 
good  quiet  and  obedience,  but  in  good  affection  and  disposition." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  233.)  He  says  :  "  The  droicnings  of 
metals  within  other  metals,  in  such  sort  as  they  can  never  rise  again, 
is  a  thing  of  great  prolit. "  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  lii.,  p.  802.)  He  also 
says  :  "  So  we  see  when  two  hghts  do  meet,  the  greater  doth  darken 
and  drown  the  less."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iii.,  p.  98.)  See  "The 
Pilgrim's  Progress,"  pp.  72,  214,  and  402.     On  page  72  we  have  : 

"  Would'st  thou  divert  thyself  from  melancholy? 
Would'st  thou  be  pleased,  yet  be  far  from  folly  ? 
Would'st  thou  read  riddles,  and  their  explanation  ? 
Or  else  be  drowned  in  thy  contemplation  ?"  etc. 

'  Note  Bacon's  oft  use  of  the  words  "  middle  place,"  "  middle  con- 
dition," and  the  distinctive  views  in  his  philosophy  concerning  the 
"  middle  region."  Bacon  says  :  "  Who  w^ould  not  smile  at  Aristotle 
when  he  admireth  the  eternity  and  invariableness  of  the  heavens,  as 
there  were  not  the  like  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  ?  Those  be  the 
confines  and  borders  of  these  two  kingdoms,  where  the  continued 
alteration  and  incursion  are.  The  superfices  and  upper  parts  of  the 
earth  are  full  of  varieties.  The  superfices  and  lower  parts  of  the 
heavens,  which  we  call  the  middle  region  of  the  air,  is  full  of 
variety.  There  is  much  spirit  in  the  one  part,  that  cannot  be  brought 
into  mass.  There  is  much  massy  body  in  the  other  place,  that  can- 
not be  refined  to  spirit.  The  common  air  is  as  the  waste  ground  be- 
tween the  borders."  (Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  79.)  A.s  with  Bacon's  views 
the  principles  of  motion  within  the  human  body  are  what  they  are  in 
the  outlying  world,  .so  is  this  term  applied  also  to  it.  And  in  the 
Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  vol.  i.,  p.  25,  we  have  :  "  Middle  Region.] 
Next  in  order  is  the  viiddle  region,  or  chest,  which  comprehends  the 
vital  faculties  and  parts  ;  which  (as  I  said)  is  separated  from  the  lower 
belly  by  the  diaphragma,  or  midriff,  which  is  a  skin  consisting  of 
many  nerves,  membranes  ;  and,  amongst  other  uses  it  hath,  is  the  in- 


44  INTRODUCTION. 

which  is  set  as  a  wall  of  brass  to  bind  up  the  atmosphere 
and  keep  it  within  its  proper  compass  for  the  functions 
of  respiration,  condensing  and  rarefying,  without  which 
nature  would  be  all  in  confusion — whatever  are  their 
efficient  causes,  it  is  not  to  the  immediate  design. 

"  It  is  apparent  that  God  Almighty,  whom  the  philoso- 
phers care  as  little  as  possible  to  have  anything  to  do 
with,  seems  to  have  reserved  this  as  one  of  those  secrets 
in  nature  which  should  directly  guide  them  to  himself." 

And  on  the  third  page  of  the  article  we  have  :  "  When 
therefore  1  say  the  philosophers  do  not  care  to  concern 
God  himself  in  the  search  after  natural  knowledge,  I  mean 
as  it  concerns  natural  knowledge  merely  as  such  ;  for  it  is 
a  natural  cause  they  seek,  fi-om  a  general  maxim,  that  all 
nature  has  its  cause  within  itself  ;  it  is  true,  it  is  the  dark- 
est part  of  the  search  to  trace  the  chain  backward  ;  to  be- 
gin at  the  consequence,  and  from  thence  hunt  counter,  as 
we  may  call  it,  to  find  out  the  cause  ;  it  would  be  much 
easier  if  we  could  begin  at  the  cause  and  trace  it  to  all  its 
consequences,, 

*'  I  make  no  question  the  search  would  be  equally  to 
the  advantage  of  science  and  the  improvement  of  the 
world  ;  for  without  doubt  there  are  some  consequences  of 
known  causes  which  are  not  yet  discovered,  and  i  am  as 
ready  to  believe  there  are  yet  in  nature  some  terra  incog- 
nita^ both  as  to  cause  and  consequence  too. 

"  In  this  search  after  causes,  the  philosopher,  though 
he  may  at  the  same  time  be  a  very  good  Christian,  cares 
not  at  all  to  meddle  with  his  Maker  ;  the  reason  is  plain  : 
we  may  at  any  time  resolve  all  things  into  infinite  power, 
and  we  do  allow  that  the  finger  of  Infinite  is  the  first 
mighty  cause  of  nature  herself  ;  but  the  treasury  of  immedi- 
ate cause  is  generally  committed  to  nature  ;  and  if  at  any 
time  we  are  driven  to  look  beyond  her,  it  is  because  we 

strument  of  laughing."  And  in  vol.  iv.,  p.  148,  of  Addison,  we  have  : 
"  I  look  upon  the  play-house  as  a  world  within  itself.  They  have 
lately  furnished  the  middle  region  of  it  with  a  new  set  of  meteors, 
in  order  to  give  the  sublime  to  many  modern  tragedies.  .  .  .  Their 
lightnings  are  made  to  flash  more  briskly  than  heretofore  ;  their 
clouds  are  also  better  furbelowed  and  more  voluminous  ;  not  to  men- 
tion a  violent  storm  locked  up  in  a  great  chest  that  is  designed  for 
the  Tempest. ' ' 

'  Note  at  p.  21  of  this  work  and  for  future  reference  the  expres- 
sion "  Terra  Australis  Incognita." 


INTRODUCTION.  45 

are  out  of  the  way  ;  it  is  not  because  it  is  not  in  her,  but 
because  we  cannot  find  it. 

"  Two  men  met  in  the  middle  of  a  great  wood  ;  one  was 
searching  for  a  plant  which  grew  in  the  wood,  the  other 
had  lost  himself  in  the  wood  and  wanted  to  get  out ;  the 
latter  rejoiced  when,  through  the  trees,  he  saw  the  open 
country  ;  but  the  other  man's  business  was  not  to  get  out, 
but  to  find  what  he  looked  for  ;  yet  this  man  no  more 
undervalued  the  pleasantness  of  the  champion  country 
than  the  other. 

"  Thus  in  nature  the  philosopher's  business  is  not  to 
look  through  nature,  and  come  to  the  vast  open  field  of 
infinite  power  ;  his  business  is  in  the  wood  ;  there  grows 
the  plant  he  looks  for  ;  and  it  is  there  he  must  find  it. 
Philosophy's  aground  if  it  is  forced  to  any  further  in- 
quiry. The  Christian  begins  just  where  the  philosopher 
ends  ;  and  when  the  inquirer  turns  his  eyes  up  to  heaven, 
farewell  philosopher;  it  is  a  sign  he  can  make  nothing  of 
it  here."  ' 

On  pp.  4  and  5  we  have  : 

"  And  it  seems  a  just  authority  for  our  search  that 
some  things  are  so  placed  in  nature  by  a  chain  of  causes 
and  effects  that  upon  a  diligent  search  we  may  find  out 
what  we  look  for  ;  to  search  after  what  God  has  in  his 
sovereignty  thought  fit  to  conceal  may  be  criminal,  and 
doubtless  is  so  ;  and  the  fruitlessness  of  the  inquiry  is  gen- 
erally part  of  the  punishment  to  a  vain  curiosity  ;  but  to 
search  after  what  our  Maker  has  not  hid,  only  covered 
with  a  thin  veil  of  natural  obscurity,  and  which  upon  our 
search  is  plain  to  be  read,  seems  to  be  justified  by  the  very 
nature  of  the  thing,  and  the  possibility  of  the  demonstra- 
tion is  an  argument  to  prove  the  lawfulness  of  the  inquiry. 

^  To  show  that  these  views  were  distinctly  held  by  Lord  Bacon,  we 
need  but  quote  the  first  words  of  the  last  chapter  of  his  De  Aiigmentis. 
He  says  :  "  Seeing  now,  most  excellent  King,  that  my  little  bark,  such 
as  it  is,  has  sailed  round  the  whole  circumference  of  the  old  and  new 
world  of  sciences  (with  what  success  and  fortune  it  is  for  posterity 
to  decide),  what  remains  but  that,  having  at  length  finished  my 
course,  I  should  pay  my  vows  ?  But  there  still  remains  Sacred  or 
Inspired  Divinity  ;  whereof,  however,  if  I  proceed  to  treat,  I  shall 
step  out  of  the  bark  of  human  reason  and  enter  into  the  ship  of  the 
church  :  which  is  only  able  by  the  Divine  compass  to  rightly  direct 
its  course.  Neither  will  the  stars  of  philosophy,  which  have  hitherto 
so  nobly  shone  upon  us,  any  longer  supply  their  light."  (Phil. 
Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  111.) 


46  INTRODUCTION. 

"The  design  of  this  digression  is,  in  short,  that  as 
where  nature  is  plain  to  be  searched  into  and  demonstra- 
tion easy,  the  philosopher  is  allowed  to  seek  for  it  ;  so 
where  God  has,  as  it  were,  laid  his  hand  upon  any  place, 
and  nature  presents  us  with  an  universal  blank,  we  are 
therein  led  as  naturally  to  recognize  the  infinite  wisdom 
and  power  of  the  God  of  nature  as  David  was  in  the  texts 
before  <! noted. 

"  And  this  is  the  case  here  ;  the  winds  are  some  of 
those  inscrutables'  of  nature  in  which  human  search  has 
not  yet  been  able  to  arrive  at  any  demonstration." 

On  pp,  5  and  6  we  have  : 

"  But  that,  therefore,  all  the  causes  of  wind  are  from 
the  influences  of  the  snn^  npon  vaporous  matter  first  ex- 
haled, which  being  dilated  are  obliged  to  possess  them- 
selves of  more  space  than  before,  and  consequently  make 
the  particles  fly  before  them  ;  this  does  not  seem  to  be  a 
sufficient  demonstration  of  wind  ;  for  this,  to  my  weak 
apprehension,  Avould  rather  make  a  blow  like  gunpowder 
than  a  rushing  forward  ;  at  best,  this  is  indeed  a  probable 
conjecture,  but  admits  not  of  demonstration  equal  to  other 
phenomena  in  nature. 

"  And  this  is  all  I  am  upon — viz.,  that  this  case  has 
not  equal  proofs  of  the  natural  causes  of  it  that  we  meet 
with  in  other  cases  :  the  Scripture  seems  to  confirm  this 
when  it  says,  in  one  place,  '  He  holds  the  wind  in  his 
hand  ;'  as  if  he  should  mean  other  things  are  left  to  the 
common  discoveries  of  natural  inquiry,  but  this  is  a  thing- 
he  holds  in  his  own  hand,  and  has  concealed  it  from  the 
search  of  the  most  diligent  and  piercing  understanding  ; 
this  is  farther  confirmed  by  the  words  of  our  Saviour  : 
*  The  wind  blows  where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the 
sound  thereof,  but  knowest  not  whence  it  cometh  ;'  it  is 
plainly  expressed  to  signify  that  the  causes  of  the  wind 
are  not  equally  discovered  by  natural  inquiry  as  the  rest 
of  nature  is. 

"  If  I  would  carry  this  matter  on,  and  travel  into  the 

]  Note  in  Bacon's  attributed  writings  his  oft  use  of  this  word 
"  inscrutable,"  and  particularly  as  applied  to  the  heart  of  kings. 

-Bacon,  in  his  "History  of  the  Winds,"  says:  "  Next  to  the 
natural^  motion  of  the  air,  before  inquiring  concerning  the  sun, 
which  is  the  principal  parent  of  the  winds,  we  must  observe  whether 
anything  be  due  to  (he  moon  and  other  stars,  upon  clear  experimental 
evidence."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  167.) 


INTRODUCTION.  47 

seas  and  mountains  of  America,  where  the  mansones,  the 
trade-winds,  the  sea  breezes,  and  such  winds  as  we  have 
little  knowledge  of  are  more  common,  it  would  yet  more 
plainly  appear  '  that  we  hear  the  sound,  but  know  not 
from  whence  they  come. ' 

"  Nor  is  the  cause  of  their  motion  parallel  to  the  surface 
of  the  earth  a  less  mystery  than  their  real  original,  or 
the  difficulty  of  their  generation  ;'  and  though  some  people 
have  been  forward  to  prove  the  gravity  of  the  particles 
must  cause  the  motion  to  be  oblique,  it  is  plain  it  must 
be  very  little  so,  or  else  navigation  would  be  impracticable, 
and  in  extraordinary  cases,  where  the  pressure  above  is 
perpendicular,  it  has  been  fatal  to  ships,  houses,  etc.,  and 
would  have  terrible  effects  in  the  world,  if  it  should  more 
frequently  be  so. 

"  From  this  I  draw  only  this  conclusion,  that  the  winds 
are  a  part  of  the  works  of  Clod  by  nature,  in  which  he  has 
been  pleased  to  communicate  less  of  demonstration  to  us 
than  in  other  cases  ;  that  the  particulars  more  directly 
lead  us  to  speculations,  and  refer  us  to  intmite  power 
more  than  the  other  parts  of  nature  do." 

To  the  reader  of  the  Baconian  philosophy  I  need  not 
say  that  this  is  his  style,  that  these  were  his  thoughts. 
And  so  throughout  all  of  the  writings  under  review  do  we 
find  the  subject  of  the  winds  emphasized  and  in  the  sense 
here  set  fortli. 

The  field  of  final  causes  here  touched  upon  was  marked 
off  by  Lord  Bacon  from  the  realm  of  philosophy  as  fully 
as  by  Herbert  Spencer,  his  in  many  respects  great  disciple. 
Spencer's  field  of  the  "  Unknowable"  is  Bacon's  "  Vir- 
gin Consecrated  to  God."  Bacon  says  :  "  The  practical 
doctrine  of  nature  we  likewise  necessarily  divide  into  two 
parts  corresponding  to  those  of  speculative  ;  for  physics 
or  the  inquiry  of  efficient  and  material  causes  produces 
mechanics  ;  and  metaphysics,  the  inquiry  of  forms,  pro- 
duces magic  f  whilst  the  inquiry  of  final  causes  is  a  barren 

'  This  word  "generation"  as  applied  to  wind  is  Baconian.  He 
says  :  "  Tiie  generation  of  the  winds  are  not  only  oTigiual,_hut  also 
accidental  ;  that  is,  arising  from  the  compressions,  percussions,  and 
repercussions  of  the  air. "  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  141.) 

'^  In  the  play  of  The  Tempest.  Act  v.,  so.  1,  p.  93,  we  have  : 

"  But  this  rough  magic 
I  here  abjure  :  and,  when  I  have  requir'd  j 


48  INTRODUCTION. 

thing  or  as  a  virgin  consecrated  to  God."  (De  Angmentis, 
ch.  5,  Book  III.)  And  please  see  Novum  Organum,  Ar>h. 
89,  Book  I.  _ 

As  to  magic,  Bacon  in  sub.  93  of  his  Natural  History 
says:  "For  this  writing  of  our  Sylva  Sylvarum  is,  to 
speak  properly,  not  natural  history,  but  a  high  kind  of 
natural  magic.  For  it  is  not  a  description  only  of  nature, 
but  a  breaking  of  nature  into  great  and  strange  works." 
As  to  his  use  of  the  word  magic,  he  says  :  "If,  then,  I  have 
set  down  that  part  of  metaphysics  which  treats  of  forms  as 
deficient,  it  must  follow  that  I  do  the  like  of  natural 
magic,  which  has  relation  thereunto.  But  I  must  here  stip- 
ulate that  magic,  which  has  long  been  used  in  a  bad  sense, 
be  again  restored  to  its  ancient  and  honorable  meaning. 
For  among  the  Persians  magic  was  taken  for  a  sublime 
wisdom,  and  the  knowledge  of  the  universal  consents  of 
things  ;  and  so  the  three  kings  who  came  from  the  east  to 
worship  Christ  were  called  by  the  name  of  Magi.  1  how- 
ever understand  it  as  the  science  which  applies  the  knowl- 
edge of  hidden  forms  to  the  production  of  wonderful  opera- 
tions ;  and  by  uniting  (as  they  say)  actives  with  passives, 
displays  the  wonderful  works  of  nature."  (De  Augmentis, 
ch.  5,  Book  III.)  Let  the  Defoe  work  on  magic  be  called 
into  relation  with  these  thoughts,  and  be  read  in  connec- 
tion with  what  is  found  in  the  De  Augmentis  upon  the 
subject. 

But  to  return.  Throughout  this  literature  the  word 
"  wind  "  is  made  to  apply  subjectively  to  mind  or  its  pas- 
sions, as  well  as  to  material  change  in  the  outlying  world.' 
In  the  Advancement  of  Learning  (AVorks,  vol.  i.,  p.  225), 
Bacon  says  :  "  For  as  the  ancient  politicians  in  populous 

Some  heavenly  music,  (wliich  even  now  I  do,) 
To  work  mine  end  upon  their  senses,  that 
This  airy  charm  is  for,  I'll  break  my  staff, 
Bury  it  certain  fathoms  in  the  earth, 
And,  deeper  than  did  ever  plummet  sound, 
I'll  drown  my  book." 
Note  in  the  play  of  Hamlet,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  293,  the  use  of  the 
words  "  natural  magic."     And  in  the  Winter's  Tale,  Act  v.,  sc.  3, 
p.  189,  we  have  : 

"  Leon.  [Embracing  ?i€r.~\  O,  she's  warm  1 
If  this  be  magic,  let  it  be  an  art 
Lawful  as  eating. " 

'  Please  see  foot-note  3,  p.  20. 


INTRODUCTION.  49 

States  were  wont  to  compare  the  people  to  the' sea  and  the 
orators  to  the  winds  ;  because  as  the  sea  would  of  itself  be 
calm  and  quiet,  if  the  winds  did  not  move  and  trouble  it, 
so  the  people  would  be  peaceable  and  tractable,  if  the  sedi- 
tious orators  did  not  set  them  in  working  and  agitation  ; 
so  it  may  be  fitly  said,  that  the  mind  in  the  nature  thereof 
would  be  temperate  and  stayed,  if  the  affections,  as  winds, 
did  not  put  it  into  tumult  and  perturbation."  ' 

In  the  Baconian  philosophy  wind,  in  other  Avords,  air 
in  motion,  is  the  potent  influence  within  as  without  the 
animal  body.  In  his  History  of  the  Winds  he  says  : 
"  Winds  in  the  bodies  of  men  and  animals  excellently  corre- 
spond to  the  winds  of  the  greater  Avorld.  For  they  are 
both  generated  from  moisture'^  and  alternate  with  it,  as 
winds  and  rains  do  ;  they  are  likewise  dissipated  and  made 
to  perspire  by  a  strong  heat."  =*  And  again  :  "Bellows 
are  with  men  as  the  bags  of  ^olus,"  whence  a  man  may 
draw  wind,  according  to  the  proportion  of  man."  (Phil. 
Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  195.)  And  on  p.  160  he  says  :  "  The 
poets  have  feigned  that  the  kingdom  of  tEoIus  was  situated 

1  Note  in  the  plays  the  use  of  this  great  Baconian  word  perturba- 
tion.    In  Macbeth,  Act  v.,  sc.  1,  p.  827,  we  have  : 

"  Doct.  A  great  perturbation  in  nature  !  to  receive  at  once  the 
benefit  of  sleep,  and  do  the  effects  of  watching." 

In  Henry  IV.,  part  2,  Act  i..  sc.  2,  p.  324,  we  have: 

''  Fnl.  It  hath  its  original  from  much  grief;  from  study,  and 
perturbation  of  the  brain." 

And  see  Act  iv.,  sc.  4,  p.  413. 

'•^  Note  in  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy  the  oft  use  of  the  terms 
"the  moisture"  and  "the  over-moisture  of  tlie  brain"  as  bearing 
upon  the  question  of  its  disease. 

3  As  he  makes  the  words  "moisture"  and  "vapour'  apply  to 
mental  operations,  we  quote  his  interesting  statement  as  to  vapors 
thus:  "This,  indeed,  is  ceitain,  that  winds  are  either  natives  or 
strangers  ;  for  they  are,  as  it  were,  traders  in  vapours,  which  they 
collect  into  clouds  for  importation  or  exportation  to  and  from  differ- 
ent countries,  receiving  winds  in  return  by  way  of  exchange."  (Phil. 
Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  159.)  .. 

■•Note  here  the  word  ^olus.  In  Addison,  vol.  n.,  p.  239,  we 
•  have  :  "  The  rest  that  took  up  the  same  space,  and  made  the  same 
figure  as  the  bags  that  were  really  filled  with  money,  had  been  blown 
up  with  air,  and  called  into  my  memory  the  bags  full  of  wind,  which 
Homer  tells  us  his  hero  received  as  a  present  from  ^olus."  Later 
we  shall  call  sharply  under  review  this  word  as  used  here,  as  used 
in  the  "Anatomy  of  Abuses"  and  in  Defoe's  "Jure  Divino." 
These  heathen  gods  in  the  works  last  mentioned  will  be  found  suc- 
cinctly defined. 


50  INTRODUCTION. 

ill  subterranean  dens  and  caverns,  wliere  the  winds  were 
imprisoned,  and  whence  they  were  occasionally  let  loose.'" 
The  preface  itself  to  the  mentioned  work  is  in  these 
words  :  "  To  men  the  winds  are  as  wings.  For  by  them 
men  are  borne  and  fly,  not  indeed  through  tlie  air,  but 
over  the  sea  ;  a  vast  gate  of  commerce  is  opened,  and  the 
whole  world  is  rendered  accessible.  To  the  earth,  which 
is  the  seat  and  habitation  of  men,  they  serve  for  brooms, 
sweeping  and  cleansing  both  it  and  the  air  itself.  Yet  they 
damage  the  character  of  the  sea,  which  would  otherwise 
be  calm  and  harmless  ;  and  in  other  respects  they  are 
productive  of  mischief.  Without  any  human  agency  they 
cause  strong  and  violent  motion  ;  whence  they  are  as  hired 
servants  to  drive  ships  and  turn  mills,  and  may,  if  human 
industry  fail  not,  be  employed  for  many  other  purposes. 
The  nature  of  the  winds  is  generally  ranked  among  the 
things  mysterious  and  concealed  ;  and  no  wonder,  when 
the  power  and  nature  of  the  air,  which  the  winds  attend 
and  serve  (as  represented  by  the  poets  in  the  relation  of 
-^olus^   to  Juno),  is   entirely   unknown.      They  are  not 

'  BacoQ  entertained  distinctive  views  as  to  subterranean  winds, 
both  as  expressed  in  liis  attributed  writings  and  in  the  Anatomy  of 
Melancholy.  From  "  Othello,"  Act  iv.,  sc.  2,  p.  525,  upon  this 
point  we  give  the  following  : 

"  What  committed  ? 
Heaven  stops  the  nose  at  it,  and  the  moon  winks  ; 
The  bawdy  wind,  that  kisses  all  it  meets, 
Is  hush'd  within  the  hollow  mine  of  earth, 
And  will  not  hear  it  :  what  committed  ? — 
Impudent  strumpet  !" 

And  in  Henry  VI.,  part  2,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  238,  we  have  : 

"  What  did  I  then,  but  curs'd  the  gentle  gusts, 
And  he  that  loos'd  them  from  their  brazen  caves. 
And  bid  them  blow  toward  England's  blessed  shore. 
Or  turn  our  stern  upon  a  dreadful  rock  ? 
Yet  iEolus  would  not  be  a  murderer. 
But  left  that  hateful  office  unto  thee  ; 
The  pretty  vaulting  sea  refus'd  to  drown  me. 
Knowing  that  thou  would'st  have  me  drown'd  on  shore,        ' 
With  tears  as  salt  as  sea  through  thy  unkindness." 

*  From  the  mentioned  work  entitled  "  The  Storm,"  we,  p.  283,  as  to 
^olus,  quote  as  follows  : 

"  The  billows  swell,  and  the  haughty  Neptune  raves 
The  winds  insulting  o'er  the  impetuous  waves. 


INTRODUCTION.  51 

primary  creatures,  nor  among  the  works  of  the  six  days  ; 
as  neither  are  the  other  meteors  actually,  but  produced 
according  to  the  order  of  creation." 

Note  here  and  for  future  reference  the  mentioned  word 
^olus.  Note  likewise  in  the  plays  and  elsewhere  in  this 
literature  the  word  Aveather,'  as  applied  to  mental  states 
or  to  the  gusts  and  operations  of  the  passions,  and  the 
words  mist,  vapors,  and  like  words  to  mental  operations. 
We  have  in  the  plays  "  the  scolding  wind,"  "  the  posting 
wind,"  "the  wanton  wind,"  "  the  bawdy  wind,  that  kisses 
all  it  meets,"  and  "  Imperial  Ca3sar,  dead  and  turned  to 
clay,  may  stop  a  hole  to  keep  the  wind  away."  And  from 
the  word  air  we  have  the  word  Ariel,  the  sprightly  serving- 
spirit  of  The  Tempest.  The  words  "aired,"  "airless," 
"  air-drawn,"  and  others  are  said  to  have  been  first  used 
in  the  plays,  which  have  added  several  thousand  words  to 
our  native  tongue.  Bacon's  tentative  processes  with  words 
and  expressions  will  be  later  called  under  review. 

In  Macbeth,  Act  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  307,  we,  concerning  the 
wind,  have  : 

"  Macb.  I  conjure  you,  by  that  which  you  profess, 
(Howe'er  you  come  to  know  it,)  answer  me  : 
Though  you  untie  the  winds,  and  let  them  fight 
Against  the  churches  ;  though  the  yesty  waves 
Confound  and  swallow  navigation  up  ; 
Though  bladed  corn  be  lodg'd,  and  trees  blown  down  ; 
Though  castles  topple  on  their  warders'  heads  ; 
Though  palaces,  and  pyramids,  do  slope 
Their  heads  to  their  foundations  ;  though  the  treasure 
Of  nature's  germins  tumble  all  together. 
Even  till  destruction  sicken,  answer  me 
To  what  I  ask  you." 

And  in  Borneo  and  Juliet,  Act  iii.,  sc.  5,  p.  121,  we 
have  : 

"  How  now  !  a  conduit,  girl  ?  what  !  still  in  tears  ? 
Evermore  showering  ?     In  one  little  body 

Thetis  incensed,  rises  with  angry  frown, 
And  once  more  threatens  all  the  world  to  drown. 
And  owns  no  Power  but  England's  and  her  own. 
Yet  the  ^olian  God  dares  vent  his  rage  ; 
And  ev'n  the  Sovereign  of  the  seas  engage." 

'  In  The  Tempest,  Act  ii.,  sc.  1,  p.  48,  we  have  : 

"  Oon.  It  is  foul  weather  in  us  all,  good  sir, 
When  you  are  cloudy. " 


52  INTRODUCTION. 

TIiou  counterfeit'st  a  bark,  a  sea,  a  wind  ; 

For  still  thy  eyes,  which  I  may  call  the  sea, 

Do  ebb  and  flow  with  tears  ;  the  bark  thy  body  is, 

Sailing  in  this  salt  flood  ;  the  winds,  thy  sighs  ; 

Who, — raging  with  thy  tears,  and  they  with  them, — 

Without  a  sudden  calm,  will  overset 

Thy  tempest-tossed  body." 

We  now  move  to  another  point  connected  with  the  fore- 
going. Bacon  believed  in  an  irrational,  as  well  as  in  the 
rational  soul,  the  rational  soul  coming  from  the  breath  of  the 
Infinite  and  the  irrational  soul  from  the  spirits  of  the  ele- 
ments, or,  as  in  some  places  stated  by  him,  "  the  wombs  of 
the  elements."  This  sensitive,  irrational,  or  produced 
soul  he  believed  to  be  but  an  instrument  of  the  rational 
one  or  spirit. 

And  so  we  here  and  for  future  reference  call  attention 
to  Bacon's  subtle  and  distinctive  belief  as  to  the  spirit,  in 
its  connection  with  the  lifeless  spirits  and  the  vital  spirits 
within  the  human  body.  The  words  "  lifeless  spirits"  he 
applies  to  all  inorganic  motions.  The  words  the  "  vital 
spirits"  to  organic  motions.  With  the  latter  term  he 
includes  the  living  spirit.  In  his  "  History  of  Life  and 
Death"  he  says  :  "  The  lifeless  spirits  are  nearly  of  the 
same  substance  as  the  air  ;  the  vital  spirits  more  akin  to 
the  substance  of  flame."  '     Concerning  them  all  he  says  : 

"  We  should  know  therefore  that  there  are  diffused  in 
the  substance  of  every  part  of  the  human  body,  as  the 
flesh,  bones,  members,  organs,  and  the  like,  during  life- 
time, spirits  of  the  same  kind  as  those  which  exist  in  the 
same  things — flesh,  bones,  members,  and  the  rest — when 
separated  and  dead  ;  such  likewise  as  remain  in  the  corpse. 
But  the  living  spirit,  though  it  governs  them  and  has  some 
agreement  with  them,  is  very  different  from  them,  being 
integral  and  self-subsisting.     But  between  the  lifeless  and 

^  It  will  be  found  that  the  same  subtle  views  as  to  these  spirits  are 
held  throughout  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy.  From  vol.  i.,  p.  21, 
we  quote  :  "  Of  these  spirits  there  be  three  kinds,  according  to  the 
three  principal  parts,  brain,  heart,  ^iw;-— natural,  vital,  animal. 
The  natural  are  begotten  in  the  liver,  and  thence  dispersed  through 
the  veins  to  perform  those  natural  actions.  The  vital  spirits  are 
made  in  the  heart  of  the  natural,  which,  by  the  arteries,  are  trans- 
ported to  all  the  other  parts  ;  if  these  spirits  cease,  then  life  ceaseth, 
as  in  a  syncope  or  swooning.  The  animal  spirits,  formed  of  the 
mtal,  brought  up  to  the  brain,  and  diffused  by  the  nerves  to  the  sub- 
ordinate members,  give  sense  and  motion  to  them  all." 


INTKODUCTION.  53 

vital  spii-ifcs  there  are  two  special  differences  :  the  one, 
that  the  lifeless  spirits  are  not  continued  in  themselves, 
but  are,  as  it  were,  cut  off  and  surrounded  by  the  grosser 
body  which  intercepts  them,  as  air  is  mixed  up  in  snow  or 
froth.  But  all  the  vital  spirit  is  contained  in  itself,  by 
certain  channels  through  which  it  passes,  without  being 
totally  intercepted.  And  this  spirit  likewise  is  of  two 
kinds  :  the  one  merely  branched,  and  permeating  through 
small,  thread-like  channels  ;  the  other  having  a  cell  like- 
wise, so  that  it  is  not  only  continued  in  itself,  but  also 
collected  in  a  considerable  quantity,  according  to  the  pro- 
portion of  the  body,  in  some  hollow  space  ;  and  in  this 
cell  is  the  fountain  of  the  streamlets  which  diverge  from 
tlience.  This  cell  is  chiefly  in  the  ventricles  of  the  brain, 
which  in  the  lower  animals  are  narrow  ;  so  that  the  spirits 
seem  rather  to  be  diffused  over  the  body  than  seated  in 
cells,  as  may  be  seen  in  serpents,  eels,  and  flies,  the  differ- 
ent parts  whereof  continue  to  move  long  after  they  are  cut 
to  pieces.  So  likewise  birds  quiver  for  some  time  after 
their  heads  are  cut  off,  because  they  have  small  heads 
with  small  cells  ;  but  the  nobler  animals,  and  men  most 
of  all,  have  larger  ventricles.  The  other  di fference  between 
the  spirits  is,  that  the  vital  spirit  has  in  it  a  degree  of 
inflammation,^  and  is  like  a  breath  compounded  of  flame 
and  air,  as  the  juices  of  animals  contain  both  oil  and 
water."   (Phil.  Works,  vol.  5,  p.  323.) 

Again  :  "  But  air  is  a  permanent  body  that  is  not  dis- 
solved ;  for  though  new  air  be  created  out  of  watery  moist- 
ure, yet  the  old  air  still  remains  ;  whence  comes  that  sur- 
charge of  the  air  mentioned  in  the  title  concerning  the 

'  At  this  juncture  we  would  make  the  following  point.  This 
word  "inflammation,"  and  for  the  use  of  which  Addison  is,  in  a 
foot-note,  criticised,  is  distinctly  Baconian.  Bacon,  as  we  may  here 
see,  had  his  distinctive  reason  for  using  it.  And  he  often  makes  use 
of  the  word  "  flame"  as  applied  to  the  passions.  And  so  through- 
out the  plays  note  tlie  use  of  the  word  "  flame"  as  applied  to  love, 
as  well  as  to  other  passions  of  the  mind.  In  Hamlet,  Act  iv.,  sc.  7, 
p.  341,  we  have  : 

"  There  lives  within  the  very  flame  of  love 
A  kind  of  wick,  or  snuff,  that  will  abate  it." 

And  in  Act  iii.,  sc.  4,  p.  309,  we  have  : 

"  O,  gentle  son  ! 
Upon  the  heat  and  flame  of  thy  distemper 
Sprinkle  cool  patience." 


54  INTRODUCTION". 

winds.'  But  the  spirit  partakes  of  both  natures,  both  of 
flame  and  air  ;  as  likewise  its  nourishers  are  oil,  which  is 
homogeneous  to  flame,  and  air,  which  is  homogeneous  to 
water.  For  the  spirit  is  not  nourished  by  the  oily  part 
alone,  nor  by  the  watery  part  alone,  but  by  both  together  ; 
and  though  air  does  not  sort'  well  with  flame  nor  oil  with 
water,  yet  in  a  mixed  body  they  agree  well  enough.  Like- 
wise the  spjrit  gets  from  air  its  easy  and  delicate  impres- 
sions and  receptions,'  but  from  flame  its  noble*  and  power- 
ful motions  and  activity"  (p.  335). 

Again  :  "  It  would  be  an  error  to  suppose  that  the  living 
spirit,  like  flame,  is  perpetually  generated  and  extinguished, 
and  is  of  no  sensible  duration.  For  even  flame  does  this 
not  of  its  own  nature,  but  because  it  lives  among  things 
hostile  to  it,  since  flame  within  flame  is  durable.*  But  the 
living  spirit  lives  among  things  that  are  friendly  and  obse- 
quious.    Therefore,  whereas  flame  is  momentary  and  air  a 

All  unheal tbful  influences  upon  mind,  not  particularized,  are  by 
Bacon  called  "distempers,"  and  so  note  the  use  of  the  word 
throughout  all  this  literature. 

These  subtle  Baconian  views  as  to  the  vital  and  lifeless  spirits  are 
touched  upon  in  the  play  of  Henry  IV.,  part  2,  Act  iv.,  sc.  3,  p.  405, 
where  we  have  "and  then  the  vital  commoners,  and  inland  petty 
spirits,  muster  me  all  to  their  captain,  the  heart,"  etc. 

'  In  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  vol.  i.,  p.  309,  we  have  : 
"  Rumbhng  in  the  guts  is  caused  from  wind,  and  wind  from  ill  con- 
coction, weakness  of  natural  heat,  or  a  distempered  heat  and  cold  ; 
palpitation  of  the  heart,  from  vapours  ;  heaviness  and  aching,  from 
the  same  cause.  That  the  belly  is  hard,  wind  is  a  cause,  and  of  that 
leaping  in  many  pants."  Note  here  also  the  use  of  the  word 
"vapours."  The  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  the  Anatomy  of 
Abuses,  and  the  A.  D.  B.  Mask  are  so  evidently  Bacon's  that  we 
need  devote  comparative!}^  little  time  to  them. 

^  Note  this  use  of  this  word  "  sort"  throughout,  and  particu- 
larly in  the  plays.  In  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  Act  v.,  sc.  4,  p. 
247,  we  have  : 

"  Ant.   Well,  I  am  glad  that  all  things  sort  so  well." 
In  Henry  V.,  Act  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  534,  we  have  : 

"  King.  It  sorts  well  with  your  fierceness." 

3  And  hence  Ariel  of  "  The  Tempest." 

■*  Note  the  word  "noble"  throughout  this  literature,  and  particu- 
larly in  the  works  of  Addison.  It  was  Bacon's  distinguishing  word, 
as  "  dnty"  was  Wellington's  and  "  glory"  Napoleon's. 

^  We  shall  later  find  that  Bacon  believed  the  heavenly  bodies  to  be 
self -sustained  fire. 


INTEODUCTION.  55- 

fixed  substance,  the  living  spirit  partakes  of  the  nature  of 
both"  (p.  315). 

Again  :  "  But  the  fabric  of  the  parts  is  the  organ  of  the 
spirit,  as  the  spirit  is  the  organ  of  the  reasonable  soul,' 
which  is  incorporeal  and  divine"   (p.  335). 

Again  :  "  The  actions  or  functions  of  the  individual 
members  follow  the  nature  of  the  members  themselves, 
as  attraction,  retention,  digestion,  assimilation,  separation, 
excretion,  perspiration,  and  even  the  sense  itself,  depends 
upon  the  properties  of  the  several  organs,  as  the  stomach, 
liver,  heart,  spleen,  gall,  brain,  eye,  ear,  and  the  rest" 
(p.  324). 

AVitli  Bacon  the  principles  of  motion,  both  organic  and 
inorganic,  are  in  the  human  body  what  they  are  in  the 
outlying  world,''  though  subject  to  the  "  living  spirit," 

The  subtle  motions  that  govern  matter  beach  also  upon 
mind,^  and  hence  Bacon  has  not  one  set  of  words  to  apply 
to  mental  and  another  set  to  material  things  ;  and  so  of  all 
writers  his  words  are  the  most  definite,  as  they  follow  most 
closely  the  order  of  nature. 

In  order  that  thoughts  found  in  the  plays  and  elsewhere 
may  be  called  into  relation  with  the  mentioned  article,  we 
further  quote  from  it  as  follows  :  "  With  regard  to  the 
quieting  of  the  violence  of  the  spirits,  I  will  speak  of  it 
presently  when  I  come  to  inquire  concerning  their  mo- 
tion" *  (p.  376).  And  "  so  much,  then,  for  the  motion  of 
the  spirits  by  the  affections  of  the  mind  "  (p.  280). 

Again  :  "  The  nature  of  the  spirits  is,  as  it  were,  the 

'  In  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  vol.  2,  p.  52,  we  have  :  "  The 
soul  is  an  alien  to  the  body,  a  nightingale  to  the  air,  a  swallow  in  an 
house,  and  Ganymede  in  heaven,  an  elephant  in  Rome,  a  phenix  in 
India  ;  and  such  things  commonly  please  us  best  which  are  most 
strange  and  come  furthest  off." 

^  Bacon  had  a  definite  reason  for  calling  these  forces  or  activities 
below  consciousness  spirits,  as  he  believed  them  to  be  instincts,  as  it 
were,  and  thus  a  species  of  intelligence,  though  mysterious  to  us,  as 
will  be  seen  in  connection  with  his  views  upon  perception,  later 
touched  upon. 

^  Though  the  living  spirit  is  in  the  light  of  reason,  whatever 
affects  it  are  springs  of  its  motion,  and  apparent  good  often  de- 
ceives it. 

*  Concerning  the  "  motions  of  the  spirit,"  we,  from  Addison,  vol. 

iii.,  p.  113,  quote  as  follows  :  "  A  leap  into  the  sea  or  into  any  creek 

of  salt   water  very  often  gives  a  new  motion  to  the  spirits,  and  a 

new  turn  to  the  blood  ;  for  which  reason  we  prescribe  it  in  distempers 

i"    which  no  other  medicine  will  reach." 


56  INTRODUCTION. 

master  wheel  which  turns  the  other  wheels  in  the  body  of 
men  ;  and  therefore  in  the  intention  of  longevity  it  ought 
to  stand  first"   (p.  330). 

Again  :  "  With  regard  to  the  brain,  where  the  court 
and  university  of  the  animal  spirits  is  held/  the  former 
inquiries  concerning  opium,  niter,  and  their  subordinates, 
and  means  for  inducing  quiet  sleep,  have  some  relation 
thereto"  (p.  299). 

Again  :  "  The  stomach  (which  is  the  master  of  the 
house,  as  they  say,  upon  whose  strength  all  the  other 
digestions  depend)  should  be  so  fortified  and  strengthened 
as  to  be  moderately  warm  ;  firm,  not  loose  ;  clean,  and 
not  charged  with  oppressive  humours  ;  and  yet  (seeing  it 
is  supjiorted  by  itself  rather  than  by  the  veins)  never  abso- 
lutely empty  or  fasting  ;  lastly,  it  should  be  kept  in  good 
appetite,  for  appetite  sharpens  digestion"  (p.  294). 

Again  :  "  Although  a  good  digestion  performed  by  the 

'  In  "  Coriolanus,"  Act  i.,  sc.  1,  p.  157,  we,  as  to  this  court  of 
the  spirits,  have  : 

"  Men.  Note  me  this,  good  friend  ; 

Your  most  grave  belly  was  deliberate, 
Not  rash,  like  his  accusers,  and  thus  answer'd  : 
'  True  is  it,  my  incorporate  friends, '  quoth  he, 
'  That  I  receive  the  general  food  at  first. 
Which  you  do  live  upon  ;  and  tit  it  is, 
Because  I  am  the  store-house  and  the  shop 
Of  the  whole  body  :  but,  if  you  do  remember, 
I  send  it  through  the  rivers  of  your  blood 
Even  to  the  court,  the  heart  ;  to  th'  seat  o'  the  brain  ; 
And,  through  the  cranks  and  offices  of  man. 
The  strongest  nerves  and  small  inferior  veins 
From  me  receive  that  natural  competency 
Whereby  they  live. " 

Concerning  the  vital  organs  and  the  belly  or  middle  region,  we, 
in  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  vol.  i.,  p.  23,  have  :  "  Of  the  noble 
there  be  three  principal  parts,  to  which  all  the  rest  belong,  and 
whom  they  serve— brain,  heart,  liver ;  according  to  whose  site, 
three  regions,  or  a  three-fold  division  is  made  of  the  whole  body  ; 
as,  first,  of  the  head,  in  which  the  animal  organs  are  contained,  and 
brain  itself,  which  by  his  nerves  gives  sense  and  motion  to  the 
rest,  and  is  (as  it  were)  a  privy  counsellor,  and  chancellor,  to  the 
heart.  The  second  region  is  the  chest,  or  middle  belly,  in  which 
the  heart  as  king  keeps  his  court,  and  by  his  arteries  communicate 
life  to  the  whole  body.  The  third  region  is  the  lower  belly,  in  which 
the  liver  resides  as  a  legate  a  latere,  with  the  rest  of  those  natural 
organs  serving  for  concoction,  nourishment,  expelling  of  excre- 
ments." 


INTRODUCTIOlSr,  57 

internal  parts  is  the  principal  thing  for  perfect  alimenta- 
tion, yet  the  actions  of  the  exterior  parts  should  also  con- 
cur. And  as  the  internal  faculty  sends  forth  and  extrudes 
the  nourishment,  so  outward  faculties  should  attract  and 
seize  it"  (p.  300). 

Again  :  "  Sleep  after  dinner,  wherein  vapours'  are  un- 
pleasing  (as  heing  only  the  first  dews  of  food)  rise  to  the 
head,  is  good  for  the  spirits,  but  bad  and  prejudicial  to  all 
other  things  that  relate  to  the  health"  (p.  278). 

Again:' "For  as  motion  attenuates  and  rarefies  the 
spirit  and  stimulates  and  intensifies  the  heat  thereof,  so, 
on  the  other  hand,  sleep  pacifies  and  subdues  its  motion  and 
discursive  action.  For  though  sleep  strengthens  and 
furthers  the  actions  of  the  parts  and  the  non-vital  spirits 
and  all  motion  toward  the  circumference  of  the  body,  yet 
it  greatly  calms  and  lulls  the  proper  motion  of  the  living 
spirit"  (p.  313). 

Again  :  "  Melting  is  the  work  of  the  spirits  alone,  and 
that  only  when  they  are  excited  by  heat  ;  for  then  the 
spirits  expanding  themselves,  and  yet  not  going  forth,  in- 
sinuate and  spread  themselves  among  the  grosser  parts, 
and  make  them  soft  and  molten,  as  appears  in  metals  and 
wax  ;  for  metals  and  other  tenacious  bodies  are  apt  to  re- 
strain the  spirit  and  prevent  it  from  rushing  forth  when 
excited"  (p.  322). 

Again  :  "  Vivification,  therefore,  always  takes  place  in  a 
matter  tenacious  and  viscous,  but  at  the  same  time  soft 
and  yielding,  that  there  may  be  at  once  both  a  detention 
of  the  spirit  and  a  gentle  yielding  of  the  parts,  as  the 
spirit  moulds  them.  And  this  appears  in  the  matter  of 
all  things,  as  well  vegetable  as  animal,  whether  generated 
from  putrefaction''  or  from  seed  ;  for  there  is  manifest  in 
them  all  a  matter  hard  to  break  through,  but  easy  to 
yield." 

^  Note  throughout  the  application  of  the  word  "  vapour"  to  men- 
tal states,  as  well  as  to  material  conditions.     As  to  material  condi- 
tions, we,  in  "  Measure  for  Measure,"  Act  iv.,  sc.  2,  p.  92,  have  : 
"  I  shall  attend  your  leisure  ;  but  make  haste  ; 
The  vaporous  night  approaches." 
See  also  Hamlet,  Act  ii.,  sc.  2,  p.  258. 

*  In  sub.  835  of  Bacon's  Natural  History  he  says  :  "  And  we  see 
that  vivification  (whereof  putrefaction  is  the  bastard  brother)  is 
effected  by  such  soft  heats  as  the  hatching  of  eggs,  the  heat  of  the 
womb,"  etc. 


58  INTRODUCTION'. 

Again  :  "  Therefore  there  appear  plainly  to  be  three 
porches'  of  death  ;  namely,  destitution  of  the  spirit,  in  the 
motion,  refrigeration,  and  nourishment  thereof"  (p.  315). 
And  see  this  word  porches  as  used  in  connection  with  the 
subject  of  death  on  pp.  222  and  311. 

Again  :  "  To  comfort  the  heart-  cooling  odours  are 
better  than  hot"  (p.  297). 

Again  :  *'  Whence  we  see  spiders,  flies,  or  ants,  entombed 
and  preserved  for  ever  in  amber,  a  more  than  royal  tomb, 
though  they  are  tender  substances  and  easily  dissipated  " 
(p.  320). 

Again  :  "  The  polished  surface  likewise  and  closeness  of 
the  body  (which  does  not  permit  the  vapour  of  moisture 
to  enter  through  the  pores)  accidentally  dries  it  by  ex- 
posure to  the  air  ;  as  is  seen  in  precious  stones,  looking- 
glasses,  and  sword  blades,  which,  if  you  breathe  upon 
them,  appear  at  first  covered  with  vapour,  though  it  soon 
disperses,  like  a  little  cloud"  (p.  228). 

Again  :  "  Joy  suppressed  and  sparingly  communicated 
comforts  the  spirits  more  than  joy  indulged  and  published" 
(p.  279). 

Again  :  "  There  are  two  things  in  the  body — namely, 
spirits  and  parts  f  to  both  of  which  the  way  by  nutrition 
is  long  ;  but  the  way  to  the  spirits  by  vapours*  or  the 

'  See  this  unusual  use  of  the  word  "  porch"  in  Hamlet,  Act  i.,  so. 
5,  p.  233,  where  we  have: 

"  Sleeping  within  mine  orchard. 
My  custom  always  in  the  afternoon. 
Upon  my  secure  hour  thy  uncle  stole. 
With  juice  of  cursed  hebenon  in  a  phial, 
And  in  the  porches  of  mine  ear  did  pour 
The  leperous  distil  ment ;"  etc. 

'Concerning  the  expression  "comfort  the  heart,"  we,  from  the 
Anatomy  of  Abuses,  p.  201,  quote  as  follows  :  "  I  grant  music  is  a 
good  gift  of  God,  and  that  it  delighteth  both  man  and  beast,  reviv- 
eth  the  spirits,  comforteth  tlie  heart,  and  maketh  it  readier  to  serve 
God,"  etc.     And  in  Hamlet,  Act  i.,  sc.  2,  p.  210,  we  have  : 

"  And,  we  beseach  you,  bend  you  to  remain 
Here,  in  tlie  cheer  and  comfort  of  our  eye. 
Our  chiefest  courtier,  cousin,  and  our  sou." 

*  Note  a  kind  of  distinctive  use  by  Bacon  of  this  word  "part," 
and  found  in  every  phase  of  these  writings. 

*  In  Addison,  vol.  ii.,  p.  238,  we  have:  "  She  appeared,  indeed, 
iuhuilely  timorous  in  all  her  behaviour  ;  and  whether  it  was  from 


INTRODUCTION.  59 

affections,  and  to  the  parts  by  emoliients,  is  short"  (p. 
332). 

Again  :  ''  Of  all  odours  I  recommend  (as  I  have  inti- 
mated before)  those  of  plants  growing  and  iiot  gathered, 
and  taken  in  the  open  air ;  such  as  those  of  violets,  pinks, 
and  gilly-flowers,  bean-blossoms,  lime-flowers,  the  dust  or 
flowers  of  vines,  clary,  the  yellow  wall-flower,  musk  roses 
(for  other  roses  when  growing  give  out  little  smell),  straw- 
berry plants,  especially  when  dying  ;  sweet-brier,  especially 
in  early  spring  ;  wild  mint,  and  lavender  flowers  ;  and  in 
hot  countries,  oranges,  citrons,  myrtle,  and  laurel.  We 
ought  therefore  to  walk  or  sit  among  the  breaths  of  these 
plants"  (p.  298). 

Again  :  "  The  medicines  that  make  opiates  are,  first  of 
all,  saffron'  and  its  flowers  ;  then  Indian  leaf,  ambergris,  a 
preparation  of  coriander  seed,  amomum  and  pseudamo- 
mum,  lignum  Ehodium,  orange-flower  water,  or  better 
still,  the  infusion  of  fresh  orange-flowers  in  oil  of  almond, 
nutmegs  pricked  full  of  holes  and  soaked  in  rose-waters" 
(p.  272). 

Again  :  "The  best  simples  for  the  stomach  are  rose- 
mary, elecampane,  mastich,  wormwood,  sage,  and  mint"* 
(p.  295). 

the  delicacy  of  lier  constitution  or  that  she  was  troubled  with 
vapours,  as  I  was  afterward  told  by  one  who  I  found  was  none  of 
her  well-wishers,  she  changed  colour  and  startled  at  every  thing  she 
heard." 

^  The  word  "  saffron"  is  an  oft-used  word  by  Bacon,  and  found  m  all 
of  these  writings.  In  "  The  Tempest,"  Act  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  83,  we 
have  : 

"  Ger.  Hail,  many- coloured  messenger,  that  ne'er 

Dost  disobey  the  wife  of  Jupiter  ; 

Who,  with  thy  saffron  wings  upon  my  flowers 

Diffusest  honey-drops,  refreshing  showers  ; 

And  with  each  end  of  thy  blue  bow  dost  crown 

My  bosky  acres,  and  my  unshrubb'd  down. 

Rich  scarf  to  my  proud  earth;— why  hath  thy  queen 

Summou'd  me  liither,  to  this  short-grass'd  green?" 

Note  this  word  also  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  404  ;  in  "All's 
Well  that  Ends  Well,"  Act  iv.,  sc.  5,  p.  865  ;  while  in  Addison,  vol. 
iii.,  p.  176,  we  have:  "  This,  says  he,  our  Ovid  himself  has  hinted, 
where  he  treats  of  these  matters,  when  he  tells  us  that  the  blue  Avater- 
nymphs  arc  dressed  in  sky-colnured  garments;  and  that  Aurora,  who 
always  appears  in  the  light  of  the  rising  sun,  is  robed  in  saffron." 

*  As  to  Bacon's  knowledge  of  flowers,  beasts,  birds,  music,  gar- 
dens, magic,  astrology,  and  "kindred  subjects,  and  spread  everywhere 


60  INTRODUCTION. 

Again  :  "  It  is  strange  how  men,  like  owls,  see  sharply 
in  the  darkness  of  their  own  notions,  bnt  in  the  daylight 
of  experience  wink  and  are  blinded"  '  (p.  231).  Note  "the 
oft  nse  of  these  words  "  owl  "  and  "  wink  "  throughout 
the  plays. 

Again  :  "  The  gentler  kinds  of  animals,  as  the  sheep 
and  dove,  are  not  long-lived  ;  for  bile  acts  as  a  whetstone 
or  spear  to  many  functions  of  the  body"  (p.  241).  See 
later  in  the  plays  this  word  "whetstone." 

We  also  in  this  brief  "  History  of  Life  and  Death"  have 
such  expressions  as  "  effusion  of  blood,"  "  flight  of  the 
spirits,"  "  spur  to  assimilation,"  "  appetite  of  the  spirit," 
*'  fruit  of  speech,"  "  leaf-joy,"  "  the  firmament  of  food," 
"the  ways  to  death,"  "the  ambient'*  or  external  air," 
"  fortify  the  heart,"  "  turn  back  the  course  of  nature,"' 
"  sweet  sorrow,"  *  etc.,  and  early  in  the  article,  p.  221, 
we  have  :  "  Inquire  into  the  length  and  shortness  of  men's 
lives  according  to  the  times  of  tlieir  nativity,  but  so  as  to 
omit  for  the  present  all  astrological  and  horoscopical  ob- 
servations.    Admit  only  the  common  and  manifest  observa- 

in  the  plays,  see  his  "Natural  History."  But  we  stay  too  long 
upon  our  notes,  and  must  hasten  forward  to  more  interesting  and 
convincing  fields. 

'  Promus,  657.  Let  the  cat  wink  and  let  the  mouse  run. 

*  The  outer  air  is  distinguished  by  Bacon  from  that  active  within  the 
body  by  the  word  ambient.  Concerning  this  ambient  air  and  heat,  we, 
in  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  vol.  i.,  p.  374,  have  :  "  If  it  be  solid 
earth,  'tis  the  fountain  of  metals,  waters,  which  by  his  innate  temper 
turns  air  into  water,  which  springs  up  in  several  chinks,  to  moisten  the 
e&rilx's,  superficies,  and  that  in  a  tenfold  proportion  (as  Aristotle  holds)  ; 
or  else  these  fountains  come  directly  from  the  sea,  by  secret  passages, 
and  so  made  fresh  again  by  running  through  the  bowels  of  the 
earth  ;  and  are  either  thick,  thin,  hot,  cold,  as  the  matter  of  metals 
are  by  which  they  pass  ;  or,  as  Peter  Martyr  [Ocean.  Decad.,  lib.  9) 
and  some  others  hold,  from  abimdauce  of  rain  that  falls  ;  or  from 
that  ambient  heat  and  cold,  which  alters  that  inward  heat,  and  so 
per  consequence,  the  generation  of  waters.  Or  else  it  may  be  full  of 
wind,  or  sulphureous  innate  fire,  as  our  meteorologists  inform  us, 
which  sometimes  breaks  out,  causeth  those  horrible  earthquakes 
which  are  so  1'requent  in  these  days  iu  Japan,  China,  and  oftentimes 
swallow  up  whole  cities." 

2  In  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  ii.,  sc.  1,  p.  63,  we  have  : 

"  Turn  back,  dull  earth,  and  find  thy  centre  out." 

*  And  same  Act,  sc.  2,  p.  73  : 

"  Good  night,  good  night  !  parting  is  such  sweet  sorrow. 
That  I  shall  say  good  night,  till  it  be  morrow." 


INTEODUCTIOK.  61 

tions  (if  there  be  any)  as  whether  the  birth  took  place  in 
the  7th,  8th,  9th,  or  10th  month,  whether  by  night  or  by 
day,  and  in  what  month  of  the  year." 

Concerning  the  knowledge  of  flowers,  displayed  in  the 
plays,  we  here  from  the  Winter's  Tale,  Act  iv.,  sc.  3,  p. 
90,  give  place  to  the  following  : 

"  O  Proserpina,' 
For  the  flowers  now,  that,  frighted,  thou  let'st  fall 
From  Dis's  wagon  !  dafEodils, 
That  come  before  the  swallow  dares,  and  take 
The  winds  of  March  with  beauty  ;  violets  dim, 
But  sweeter  than  the  lids  of  Juno's  eyes, 
Or  Cytherea's  breath  ;  pale  primroses, 
That  die  unmarried  ere  they  can  behold 
Bright  PhcEbus  in  his  strength,  a  malady 
Most  incident  to  maids  ;  bold  oxlips,  and 
The  crown  imperial  ;  lilies  of  all  kinds, 
The  flower-de-luce^  being  one.     O  !  these  I  lack, 
To  make  you  garlands  of,  and,  my  sweet  friend. 
To  strew  him  o'er  and  o'er." 

But  it  may  be  asked,  How  is  it  possible  that  Lord  Bacon 
could  have  been  the  author  of  these  writings,  in  addition  to 
those  generally  attributed  to  him,  in  the  light  of  the  wide 
legal  learning  which  he  concededly  possessed  ? 

The  answer  must  be  : 

1.  That  many  of  his  attributed  writings  consist  of  ac- 
cumulated letters  and  legal  papers. 

2.  A  considerable  portion  of  the  work  was  performed 
doubtless  in  early  years. 

3.  To  the  amount  of  qualitative  mental  labor  which  he 
was  able  to  perform  in  a  brief  period  of  time. 

'  See,  please,  in  Bacon's  "  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients"  his  inter- 
pretation of  the  fable  entitled  "  Proserpina  ;  or,  Spirit."  In 
Addison,  vol.  ii.,  p.  291,  we  have  :  "  I  remember  the  last  opera  I 
saw  in  that  merry  nation  was  the  rape  of  Proserpine  ;  where  Pluto, 
to  make  the  more  tempting  figure,  puts  himself  in  a  French  equi- 
page, and  brings  Ascalaphus  along  with  him  as  his  valet  de  chambre. 
This  is  what  we  call  foUj^  and  impertinence,  but  what  the  French 
look  upon  as  gay  and  polite." 

■^  As  to  the  word  "  flower-de-luce,"  we,  from  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p. 
366,  quote  thus  :  "  Count  Tarriff  appeared  just  the  reverse  of  Good- 
man Fact.  He  was  dressed  in  a  fine  brocade  waistcoat,  curiously 
embroidered  with  flower-de-luces.  He  wore  also  a  broad-brimmed 
hat,  a  shoulder-knot,  and  a  pair  of  silver-clocked  stockings."  These 
words  will  be  found  covers  for  occult  meanings,  as  well  in  Addison 
as  iu  the  plays.  The  system  was  begun  in  the  youthful  treatise  the 
"  Anatomy  of  Abuses,"  and  which  is  a  great  onslaught  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  apparel. 


62  INTRODUCTION. 

4.  To  his  thirst  for  knowledge  and  unceasing  labor, 
joined  with  the  resolution,  "  I  have  taken  all  knowledge  to 
be  my  providence." 

5.  To  his  known  habit  of  ruminating  or  re-embodying 
his  thought,  in  order  that  it  might  appear  in  more  terse 
statement  ;  and  hence  the  concentration  of  thought  reached 
in  the  so-called  Shakespeare  plays. 

6.  To  method,  concerning  which  he  himself  says  :  "In 
studies,  whatsoever  a  man  commandeth  upon  himself,  let 
him  set  hours  for  it  ;  but  whatever  is  agreeable  to  his 
nature,  let  him  take  no  care  for  any  set  times  ;  for  his 
thoughts  will  fly  to  it  of  them.selves,  so  as  the  spaces  of 
other  business  or  studies  will  suffice." 

7.  And  generally  to  those  rare  mental  gifts  concerning 
•which  Macaulay,  in  his  Essay  on  Bacon,  says  :  "  With 
great  minuteness  of  observation  he  had  an  amplitude  of 
comprehension,  such  as  has  never  yet  been  vouchsafed  to 
any  other  humau  being." 

And  from  a  piece  of  this  literature,  later  to  be  called 
under  review,  and  which  we  have  called  the  Head  Light 
to  our  Head  Light,  we  quote  as  follows  : 

"  In  my  disposure  of  employments  of  the  brain,  I 
have  thought  fit  to  make  invention  the  master,  and  to  give 
method  and  reason  the  office  of  its  lackeys.  The  cause  of 
this  distribution  was  from  observing  it  my  peculiar  case 
to  be  often  under  a  temj^tation  of  being  witty  upon  occa- 
Bious  where  I  could  be  neither  wise,  nor  sound,  nor  any 
thing  to  the  matter  in  hand.  And  I  am  too  much  a  ser- 
vant of  the  modern  way  to  neglect  any  such  opportunities, 
whatever  pains  or  improprieties  I  may  be  at  to  introduce 
them." 

Bacon,  and  closely  upon  the  heels  of  the  Reformation, 
as  we  shall  see,  undertook  the  establishment  of  a  system 
of  philosophy  in  which  things,  or  actualities  only,  and  the 
orderly  relations  unfolding  from  them,  even  to  the  very 
fringes  thereof,  should  be  taken  or  stand  as  supreme.  In 
other  words,  he  urged  that  the  mind  should  be  taught  to 
stay  upon  material  change,  rather  than  upon  speculative 
meditation,  if  we  would  know  nature  or  her  truths  in 
native  or  orderly  unfoldment ;  and  he  earned  this  idea 
forward  into  all  of  his  doings.  He  read  to  his  age  the 
lesson  that  it  was  not  enough  that  conclusions  follow  from 
premises  under  the  then  existing  logic,  but  that  wc  must 


INTRODUCTION".  63 

know  that  the  premises  themselves  be  true,  otherwise 
errors  with  truths  may  commingle,  and  thus  render  worth- 
less the  fabric.  He  urged  not  merely  greater  definiteness 
as  to  the  particulars  themselves  of  knowledge,  but  that  the 
judgment  upon  the  particular  required  aid,  and  which  his 
inductive  tables,  or  tabular  methods — the  centre  of  his 
system — were  intended  to  supply. 

He  himself  sought  the  face  of  every  unfoldment  in 
nature,  character,  and  life,  and  made  facts  royal.  "Wher- 
ever force  was  active  in  material  change,  there  were  his 
eyes,  his  life,  his  mind,  and  he  thus  reformed  the  philoso- 
phy, the  stage,  and  the  general  literature  of  his  day,  by 
catching  each  actuality  as  it  arose.  He  taught  that  mind 
is  a  divine  instrument  lent  for  good,  and  not  to  be  used 
merely  upon  itself,  but  upon  the  vast  universe  without ; 
and  so  in  his  Shakespeare  he  says  :  "  Heaven  with  us  as 
we  with  torches  do,  not  light  them  for  themselves." 

In  his  article  entitled  "  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Na- 
ture" ("Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  84),  he  says  :  "  For  as'  in  inquiry 
of  divine  truth  the  pride  of  man  hath  ever  inclined  to 
leave  the  oracles  of  God's  word  and  to  vanish  in  the  mix- 
ture of  their  own  inventions,  so,  in  the  self-same  manner, 
in  inquisition"  of  nature,  they  have  ever  left  the  oracles 
of  God's  works, -and  adored  the  deceiving  and  deformed 
imagery,  which  the  unequal  mirrors  of  their  own  minds 
have  represented  unto  them.      Nay,^  it  is  a  point  fit  and 

'  Note  throughout  this  literature,  as  in  this  sentence,  the  use  of 
the  words  "as"  and  "so"  to  present  contrasted  thought  in  the  same 
sentence.  We  do  not  mean  to  say  that  this  form  is  not  somewliat 
used  by  others,  but  only  that  it  is  a  noticeable  earmark  in  the  works 
under  review.  We  give  an  example  from  the  "  Anatomy  of  Melan- 
choly," vol.  i.^  p.  256  :  "  For  as  the  distraction  of  the  mind,  amongst 
other  outward  causes  and  perturbation,  alters  the  temperature  of  the 
body,  so  the  distraction  and  distemper  of  the  body  will  cause  a  dis- 
temperature  of  the  soul ;  and  'tis  hard  to  decide  which  of  these  two 
do  more  harm  to  the  other. " 

^  Note  this  use  of  the  word  "  inquisition"  for  inquiry  in  all  of  the 
works  under  review.  In  The  Tempest,  Act  i.,  sc.  2,  p.  22,  we 
have  : 

"You  have  often 
Begun  to  tell  me  what  I  am  ;  but  stopp'd. 
And  left  me  to  a  bootless  inquisition  ; 
Concluding,  '  Stay,  not  yet.'  " 

*  Note,  please,  in  every  phase  of  these  writings  the  use  of  the  word 
"  nay"  and  the  words  "  I  say." 


64  INTRODUCTION. 

necessary  in  the  front,  and  beginning  of  this  work,  without 
hesitation  or  reservation  to  be  professed,  that  it  is  no  less 
true  in  this  human  kingdom  of  knowledge,  than  in  God's 
kingdom  of  heaven,  that  no  man  shall  enter  into  it  '  except 
he  become  first  as  a  little  child.'  "  Concerning  this  child, 
the  true  babe  of  philosophy,  we  shall  later  have  something 
to  say  in  a  somewhat  singular  connection. 

Even  in  his  Crusoe  material  things  are  so  co-ordi- 
nated and  marshalled  as  to  their  just  relations  that  we 
are  inclined  to  overlook  the  author's  matchless  genius, 
nature  being  held  with  so  true  a  hand  as  that  all  imagina- 
tion, contrivance,  or  invention  seems  absent  from  the  work  ; 
and  it  is  only  by  mentcil  effort  tliat  we  can  make  it  seem 
unreal.  There  is  here,  indeed,  that  semblance  of  artless- 
ness  which  is  the  perfection  of  art. 

As  bearing  in  the  direction  of  Crusoe,  we  quote  from 
a  letter  by  Bacon  in  1632  to  Father  Redemptus  Baranzano, 
Professor  of  Philosophy  and  Mathematics  at  Anneci,  where- 
in, among  other  things,  he  says  :  "  The  novelists  whom  you 
name — Petricius,  Telesius,'  besides  others  whom  you  do 
not  mention,  I  have  read.  There  may  be  any  number  of 
the  kind, — as  were  also  in  ancient  times  Anaximenes, 
Anaxagoras,  Democritus,  Parmenides,  and  others  (for  I 
omit  Pythagoras,  as  superstitious).  Between  these,  as 
well  ancient  as  modern,  I  observe  great  difference  in  point 
of  faculty  ;  in  point  of  truth,  very  little.  The  sum  of  the 
matter  is  this  :  if  men  will  submit  themselves  to  things, 
something  will  be  done  ;  if  not,  those  wits  will  come  round 
again  in  the  circle.'"'  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  877.) 

Crusoe  when  put  forth  v/as  a  new  departure  in  the 
literary  world,  nothing  of  its  kind  having  before  appeared. 
This  and  other  like  writings  gave  Defoe  the  credit  of  being 
the  first  English  novelist.  As  differing  from  the  then 
works  of  fiction,  they  paint  men  as  existing  and  acting 
their  manners,  habits,  and  passions  amid  present  or  exist- 
ing environments.     They  bear,  in  fact,  about  that  relation 

'  In  sub.  69,  of  Bacon's  Natural  History,  lie,  concerning  certain 
views  there  presented  touching  the  production  of  cold,  says  :  "It 
was  the  opinion  of  Telesius,  who  hath  renewed  tlie  philosojihy  of 
Parmenides,  and  is  the  best  of  the  novelists." 

^  In  the  introduction  to  his  fragment  entitled  "  The  Holy  War," 
written  in  1022,  he  said  that  he  intended  to  write  "  some  patterns  of 
natural  story,"  as  we  shall  see. 


INTRODUCTION".  65 

to  tlie  then  works  of  fiction  that  the  Shakespeare  plays  did 
to  the  old  miracle  plays. 

Bat  it  may  be  said,  What,  then,  are  yon  going  to  do  with 
the  rest  of  these  actors,  and  particularly  with  the  accredited 
chief,  Defoe?  As  to  Defoe,  we  purpose  to  note  the  in- 
congruity between  the  man  himself  and  his  reputed  work, 
and  let  him  alone.  It  is,  indeed,  somewhat  amusing  to 
one  possessed  of  the  facts  yielded  by  close  investigation 
upon  our  subject  to  see  what  turns,  shifts,  devices,  and 
excuses  Defoe's  biographers  have  been  compelled  to  resort 
to,  in  order  to  clear  his  record  from  assaults  made  upon 
him  by  reason  of  his  ignorance  and  assumptions,  and  who 
at  the  age  of  twenty-seven  years  was  but  a  kind  of  livery- 
man in  London,  as  we  shall  see,  and  at  about  which  time 
the  Defoe  literature  began  its  inundation,  though  until 
some  yeai's  later  fathered  upon  no  one.  The  conclusions 
of  Defoe's  biographers  will  be  found  to  have  been  drawn, 
not  from  the  character  and  personal  history  of  the  man 
himself,  but  almost  wholly  from  the  writings  attributed  to 
him,  and  which  confessedly  show  not  only  great  inherent 
subtlety  and  merit,  but  exhaustive  research  into  all  of  the 
wisdom  of  the  ancients,  including  ancient  biography, 
mythology,  astrology,  apparitions,  second  sight,  and  magic  ; 
and  a  like  research  into  Scripture,  geography,  history, 
philology,  cipher  writing,  general  literature,  finance,  art, 
science,  and  philosophy. 

But  there  are  doubtless  those  who  will  prefer  to  shut 
their  eyes  to  developments,  preferring  that  these  marks 
shall  stand  for  or  represent  the  genius  of  the  ages,  than  to 
know  the  truth  ;  in  other  words,  than  to  have  their  idols 
disturbed.  From  such  little  need  be  expected  in  aid  of 
any  truth.  We  write,  however,  for  those  who,  while  care- 
fully guarding  landmarks,  are  still  willing  to  open  their 
eyes  ;  for  those  who,  as  Bacon  says,  "  while  not  hasty  to 
aferm,  or  unrestrained  in  doubting,  hold  every  new  field 
but  as  in  probation." 

From  such  we  invite  investigation,  and  ask  no  more  than 
suspended  judgment  until  our  lights  be  set. 

The  supreme  desire  of  Lord  Bacon,  and  especially  in  his 
later  years,  was  that  the  cream  of  his  work,  so  to  speak, 
his  far-reaching  philosophy,  might  be  accepted  by  the 
world  ;  and  for  this,  among  other  reasons,  it  may  well  be 
considered  as  to  whether  he  was  not  willing,  by  means  of  a 
3 


66  INTRODUCTION. 

cipher  or  key,  as  has  been  claimed,  to  bide  his  time  as  to 
his  other  "writings,  which,  if  they  had  all  been  claimed  and 
put  forth  at  once,  might  thus  by  mere  voluminousness 
have  caused  neglect  of  all,  but  which,  by  system,  would 
render  all  available.  It  should  also  be  considered  as  to 
whether,  realizing  the  power  and  malignity  of  envy  and 
his  then  depressed  condition,  he  did  not  see  that  a  future 
period  would  be  more  just,  both  to  him,  and  to  his  writ- 
ings. The  subject  of  cipher  writing  is  known  to  have 
been  unusually  familiar  to  him,  as  will  appear  in  many 
places  in  his  writings,  and  particularly  in  ch.  1,  Book  Vl. 
of  the  De  Augmentis,  where  he  presents  the  subject  and 
gives  what  he  regards  as  the  most  perfect  example  of  this 
kind  of  writing.  As  the  work  was  issued  but  three  years 
prior  to  his  death,  it  shows  the  subject  late  in  life  still 
prominent  in  his  thoughts.  But  later  we  shall  find  a 
deeper  thread. 

Again,  suppose  the  key  should  fail.  Tn  that  event,  were 
the  branches  of  this  philosophy,  as  telltales  to  the  system, 
stayed  by  method  to  some  specific  period,  and  in  part 
foiled,  either  by  intrigue,  by  plunder,  by  fear  in  handling, 
or  by  all  combined,  or  M'ere  they  stayed  without  method  ? 

Whichever  of  these  views  be  accepted,  by  reason  of  the 
facts  and  circumstances  made  to  appear  under  our  title 
Harley  and  Defoe,  they  will  in  no  way  affect  the  fact  as  to 
whether  these  are  or  are  not  the  writings  of  Lord  Bacon, 
as  that  must  now  be  determined  upon  other  grounds. 

They  will  at  least  be  found  to  elaborate  and  explain 
Lord  Bacon's  subtle  views  upon  certain  branches  of  philoso- 
phy. They  will  likewise  be  found  to  furnish  forth  the 
best  extant  material  to  sustain  the  theory  of  his  authorship 
of  the  so-called  Shakespeare  plays,  as  the  reader  will  be 
made  to  realize  when  sutficiently  advanced  in  our  subject. 

In  ch.  1,  Book  III.,  of  the  De  Augmentis,  he,  as  to  the 
sciences,  says  :  "  We  shall  therefore  divide  sciences  into 
theology  and  philosophy.  In  the  former  we  do  not  in- 
clude natural  theology,  of  which  we  are  to  speak  anon,' 

'  Tliis  will  be  found  an  oft-used  word  in  tbe  plays.  In  All's  Well 
llial  Ends  AVell,  Act.  i.,  sc.  3,  p.  284,  we  have  : 

"  Count.  Get  you  gone,  sir  :  I'll  speak  with  you  more  anon." 
In  "  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  p.  3bl,  we  have  :  "  When  Apollyon 
was  beat,  he  made  his  retreat  to  the  next  valley,  that  is  called  the 
Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  unto  which  we  shall  come  anon." 


INTRODUCTIOlsr.  67 

but  restrict  ourselves  to  inspired  divinity,  the  treatment 
of  which  we  reserve  as  the  close  of  the  work,  as  the  fruit 
and  sabbath  of  all  human  contemplation."  '  And  please 
see  the  next  chapter,  where  he  defines  natural  theology  and 
makes  it  a  distinct  branch  of  philosophy. 

In  this  line  it  was,  as  we  shall  claim,  that  portions  of 
the  Defoe  literature  were  produced  by  him.  In  the  intro- 
ductory matter  to  his  Great  Instauration  (Works,  vol.  iii., 
p.  341),  he  says  :  "  But  after  furnishing  the  understanding 
with  the  most  surest^  helps  and  precautions,  and  having 
completed  by  a  rigorous  levy  a  complete  host  of  divine 
works,  nothing  remains  to  be  done  but  to  attack  philoso- 
phy herself."  Do  the  words  "  and  having  completed  by  a 
rigorous  levy  a  complete  host  of  divine  works"  mean  any- 
thing ?  He  does  not  speak  of  them  as  in  contemplation, 
but  says  they  have  been  completed.  Where  are  they  ? 
It  is  needless  to  say  that  Lord  Bacon  left  no  treatise  of  this 
character  that  has  ever  been  attributed  to  liim,  and  hence 
the  oft-mooted  question  as  to  his  real  religious  convictions. 
We  have  much,  indeed,  to  unearth,  and,  a  period  in  Eng- 
lish history  is  yet  to  be  written.  As  to  the  divine  works 
al hided  to,  he  at  least  says  they  were  "  completed  by  a 
rigorous  levy,"  whatever  that  may  mean.  Later  we  shall 
call  attention  to  an  instance  of  this  levy,  as  set  out  in  that 
distinguished  allegory  known  as  The  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
the  claimed  product  from  the  pen  of  an  untaught  rustic, 
though  justly  pronounced  the  finest  specimen  of  well- 
sustained  allegory  in  any  language. 

Lord  Bacon  was  favorable  to  this  Pilgrim's  Progress 
method  of  couching  religious  thought,  as  will  appear  in 
many  places  in  his  attributed  writings.  See  what  he  says 
concerning  the  subject  of  allegory  in  ch.  13,  Book  II.,  of 
the  De  Augmentis,  while  in  ch.  2,  Book  VI.,  as  to  apho- 
risms, he  says  :  "  But  that  other  way  of  delivery  by  apho- 
risms has  numerous  advantages  over  the  methodical.  And, 
first,  it  gives  us  a  proof  of  the  author's  abilities  and  shows 
whether  he  hath  entered  deeply  into  his  subject  or  not. 
Aphorisms  are  ridiculous  things  unless  wrought  from  the 

'  Did  he  attempt  the  performance  of  this  Sabbath  day  work  in 
"  The  Pilgi'im's  Progress"  ? 

^  Even  the  errors  in  these  writings  are  tlie  same.  In  Henry  IV., 
part  3,  Act  iii.,  sc.  1,  p.  370,  we  have  the  expression  : 

"  And  in  the  calmest  and  most  stillest  night." 


68  INTRODUCTION. 

central  parts  of  the  sciences  ;  and  here  all  illustration,  ex- 
cursion, variety  of  example,  deduction,  connection,  and 
particular  description  is  cut  off,  so  that  nothing  besides 
an  ample  stock  of  observations  is  left  for  the  matter  of 
aphorisms.'  And,  therefore,  no  person  is  equal  to  the 
forming  of  aphorisms,  nor  would  ever  think  of  them,  if  he 
did  not  find  himself  copiously  and  solidly  instructed  for 
writing  upon  subjects." 

In  the  light  of  Bacon's  consummate  skill  in  deciphering 
ancient  fables,  as  will  appear  in  his  "Wisdom  of  the 
Ancients,"  it  may  not  be  amiss  for  the  reader  to  investi- 
gate some  of  the  Defoe  literature  other  than  Crusoe,  to  see 
whether  it  may  not  be  allegoric,  Crusoe  being  a  claimed 
allegory  of  the  life,  or  life  aims,  of  its  author. 

As  to  securing  mental  instruction  through  device  or  alle- 
gory, as  sought  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  we,  from  the 
Defoe  History  of  Apparitions,  Talboy  edition,  p.  43,  quote 
as  follows  : 

"But  hold!  whither  am  I  going?  This  looks  like  re- 
ligion, and  we  must  not  talk  a  word  of  that  if  we  expect 
to  be  agreeable.  Unhappy  times  !  where  to  be  serious  is 
to  be  dull  and  grave,  and  consequently  to  write  without 
spirit.  We  must  talk  politely,  not  religiously  ;  we  may 
show  the  scholar,  but  must  not  show  a  word  of  the  Chris- 
tian ;  so  we  may  quote  profane  history,  but  not  sacred  ; 
and  a  story  out  of  Lucan  or  Plutarch,  Tully  or  Virgil 
will  go  down,  but  not  a  word  out  of  Moses  or  Joshua. 

"  Well,  we  must  comply,  however  ;  the  humour  of  the 
day  must  prevail  ;  and  as  there  is  no  instructing  you 
without  pleasing  you,  and  no  pleasing  you  but  in  your 
own  wa}',  we  must  go  on  in  that  way  ;  the  understanding 
must  be  refined  by  allegory  and  enigma  ;  you  must  see 
the  sun  through  the  cloud  and  relish  light  by  the  help  of 
darkness  ;  the  taste  must  be  refined  by  salts,  the  appetite 
whetted  by  bitters  ;  in  a  word,  the  manners  must  be  re- 
formed in  masquerade,  devotion  quickened  by  the  stage,* 
not  the  pulpit,  and  wit  be  brightened  by  satires  upon  sense. " 

'  Let  this  thought  be  applied  to  that  pruning  that  produced  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress. 

-  Bacon  says  :  "  For  it  is  a  rule  in  the  art  of  transmission,  that  all 
knowledge  which  is  not  agreeable  to  anticipations  or  presuppositions 
must  seek  assistance  from  similitudes  and  comparisons."  (De  Aug- 
mentis,  ch.  2,  Book  6.)  In  the  same  book,  ch.  4,  he,  as  to  the  stage, 
says  :  "  It  is  a  thing,  indeed,  if  practiced  professionally,  of  low  re- 


INTRODUCTION.  69 

In  the  same  sense  the  author  of  The  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
in  his  apology  for  his  book,  says  : 

"  You  see  the  ways  the  flrshermaa  cloth  take 
To  catch  the  tish  ;  what  engine  doth  he  make  ! 
Behold  how  he  engageth  all  his  wits  ; 
Also  his  snares,  lines,  angles,  hooks,  and  nets  ; 
Yet  fiish  there  be,  that  neither  hook  nor  line, 
Nor  snare,  nor  net,  nor  engine,  can  make  thine'; 
They  must  be  groped  for,  and  be  tickled  too, 
Or  they  will  not  be  catch'd,  whate're  you  do. 

"  How  does  the  fowler  seek  to  catch  his  game  ? 
By  diverse  means,  all  which  one  cannot  name  ; 
His  guns,  his  nets,  his  lime-twigs,^  light  and  bell : 
He  creeps,  he  goes,  he  stands  ;  yea,  who  can  tell 
Of  all  his  postures  ?     Yet  there's  none  of  these 
Will  make  him  master  of  what  fowls  he  please. 
Yea,  he  must  pipe  and  whistle,  to  catch  this  ; 
Yet,  if  he  does  so,  that  bird  he  will  miss. 

"  If  that  a  pearl  may  in  toad's  head^  dwell, 
And  may  be  found,  too,  in  an  oyster-shell  ; 

pute  ;  but  if  it  he  made  a  part  of  discipline,  it  is  of  excellent  use.  I 
mean  stage-playing  :  an  art  which  strengthens  the  memory,  regulates 
the  tone  and  effect  of  the  voice  and  pronunciation,  teaches  a  decent 
carriage  of  the  countenance  and  gesture,  gives  not  a  little  assurance, 
and  accustoms  young  men  to  bear  being  looked  at." 

'  As  to  "  lime-twigs"  Bacon  says  :  "  And  what  though  the  Master 
of  the  Rolls,  and  my  Lord  of  Essex,  and  yourself,  and  others  think 
my  case  without  doubt,  yet  in  the  mean  time  I  have  a  hard  condi- 
tion, to  stand  so  that  whatsoever  service  I  do  to  her  majesty  it  shall 
be  thought  to  be  but  serintium  mscalum,  lime-twigs  and  fetches  to 
place  myself  ;  and  so  I  shall  have  envy,  not  thanks."  (Bacon's  Let- 
ters, vol.  i.,  p.  359.)  What  shall  we  say  as  to  these  adroitly  used 
Baconian  subtilities  by  the  itinerant  Buuyan?  In  Macbeth,  Act  iv., 
sc.  2,  p.  314,  we,  as  to  lime-twigs,  have  : 

"  L.  Macd.  Poor  bird  !  thou'dst  never  fear  the  net,  nor  lime, 

The  pit-fall,  nor  the  gin." 
In  the  "  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,"  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  174,  we  have  : 
"  But  you.  Sir  Thurio,  are  not  sharp  enough  ; 
You  must  lay  lime,  to  tangle  her  desires. 
By  wailful  sonnets,  whose  composed  rhymes 
Should  be  full  fraught  with  serviceable  vows." 

^  Concerning  the  "  toad's  head,"  we,  in  Bacon's  Natural  History, 
sub.  967,  have  :  "  Quere,  if  the  stone  taken  out  of  the  toad's  head  be 
not  of  the  like  virtue  ;  for  the  toad  loveth  shade  and  coolness. ' '  And 
in  vol.  iii.  of  the  Phil.  Works,  p.  818,  we  have  :  "  They  speak  of  a 
stone  engendered  in  a  toad's  head." 

In  "As  You  Like  It,"  Act  ii.,  sc.  1,  p.  170,  we  have  : 


70  INTRODUCTION. 

If  tilings  that  promise  nothing,  do  contain 
What  better  is  than  gold  ;  who  will  disdain, 
That  have  an  inkling  of  it,  there  to  look, 
That  they  may  find  it  ?    Now,  my  little  book 
(Though' void  of  all  those  paintings  that  may  make 
It  with  this  or  the  other  man  to  take), 
Is  not  without  those  things  that  do  excel 
What  do  in  brave  and  empty  notions  dwell." 

Bacon  had  a  distinct  belief  that  Homer  and  others,  of 
the  ancients,  had  used  these  concealed  methods,  and  he 
evidently  attempted  to  ontdo  in  all  directions  what  had 
gone  before  him.  In  the  light  of  this  statement,  we  quote 
the  opening  words  of  one  of  the  many  articles  in  Addison 
concerning  fables  and  allegories,  thus  : 

"  Fables  were  the  first  pieces  of  wit  that  made  their  ap- 
pearance in  the  world,  and  have  been  still  highly  valued, 
not  only  in  times  of  the  greatest  simplicity,  but  among  the 
most  polite  ages  of  mankind.  Jotham's  fable  of  the  tree 
is  the  oldest  that  is  extant,  and  as  beautiful  as  any  which 
have  been  made  since  that  time.  Nathan's  fable  of  the 
poor  man  and  his  lamb  is  likewise  more  ancient  than  any 
that  is  extant,  besides  the  above-mentioned,  and  had  so 
good  an  effect,  as  to  convey  instruction  to  the  ear  of  a 
king  without  offending  it,  and  to  bring  the  man  after 
God's  own  heart  to  a  right  sense  of  his  guilt  and  his  duty. 
We  find  ^sop  in  the  most  distant  ages  of  Greece  ;  and  if 
we  look  into  the  very  beginning  of  the  commonwealth  of 
Rome,  we  see  a  mutiny  among  the  common  people  ap- 
peased by  a  fable  of  the  belly  and  the  limbs,  which  was  in- 
deed very  proper  to  gain  the  attention  of  an  incensed  rab- 
ble, at  a  time  when  perhaps  they  would  have  torn  to  pieces 
any  man  who  had  preached  the  same  doctrine  to  them  in 
an  ojjen  and  direct  manner.'  As  fables  took  their  birth  in 
the  very  infancy  of  learning,  they  never  flourished  more 
than  when  learning  was  at  its  greatest  height.  To  justify 
this  assertion,  I  shall  put  my  reader  in  mind  of  Horace, 

"  Sweet  are  the  uses  of  adversity  ; 
Which,  like  the  toad,  ugly  and  venomous, 
Wears  yet  a  precious  jewel  in  his  head  ; 
And  this  our  life,  exempt  from  public  haunt, 
Finds  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks. 
Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  everything." 

'  To  this  fable  we  have  already  called  attention  and  shown  its 
Baconian  connections,  p.  56. 


INTRODUCTION.  71 

the  greatest  wit  and  critic  in  the  Augustan  age  ;  and  of 
Boileau,  the  most  correct  poet  among  the  moderns,  not  to 
mention  La  Fontaine,  who,  by  this  way  of  writing,  is  come 
more  into  vogue  than  any  other  author  of  our  times. 

"  The  fables  I  have  here  mentioned  are  raised  altogether 
upon  brutes  and  vegetables,  with  some  of  our  own  species 
mixed  among  them,  when  the  moral  hath  so  required.' 
But,  besides  this  kind  of  fable,  there  is  another  in  which 
the  actors  are  passions,  virtues,  vices,  and  other  imaginary 
persons  of  the  like  nature.  Some  of  the  ancient  critics 
will  have  it  that  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  of  Homer  are  fables 
of  this  nature  ;  and  that  the  several  names  of  gods  and 
heroes  are  nothing  else  but  the  affections  of  the  mind  in  a 
visible  shape  and  character.*  Thus  they  tell  us  that 
Achilles,  in  the  first  Iliad,  represents  anger,  or  the  irascible 
part^  of  human  nature.  That  upon  drawing  his  sword 
against  his  superior  in  full  assembly,  Pallas  is  only  another 
name  for  reason,  which  checks  and  advises  him  upon  that 
occasion  ;  and  at  her  first  appearance  touches  him  upon 
the  head,  that  part  of  the  man  being  looked  upon  as  the 
seat  of  reason."    (Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  45.) 

But,  again,  what  became  of  the  works  in  which  Lord 
Bacon  played  the  nurse  both  with  his  own  thoughts  and 
those  of  others  ? 

Bacon,  in  1624,  and  thus  but  two  years  prior  to  his 
death,  and  when  all  had  been  published  that  was  published 
during  his  life,  says  :  "  But  I  account  the  use  that  a  man 
should  seek  of  the  publication  of  his  own  writings  before 
his  death,  to  be  but  an  untimely  anticipation  of  that 
which  is  proper  to  follow  a  man,  and  not  to  go  along  with 
him."    (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  436.) 

We  would  now  focalize  most  sharply  the  attention  of  the 
reader  upon  chs.  1,  2,  3  and  4  of  Book  VI.  of  the  De 
Augmentis.  It  is,  indeed,  a  wonder  that  these  matters 
should  have  slept  so  long.  In  ch.  4  we  have  the  "  critic's 
chair"  referred  to,  and  which  we  would  have  the  reader 

'  The  works  of  Addison,  In  the  particulars  here  enumerated,  will, 
we  apprehend,  yet  lend  aid  in  unfolding  much  that  is  in  the  plays. 
See  Bacon's  allusion  to  "  cookery"  in  connection  with  rhetoric,  in 
ch.  3  of  Book  6  of  the  De  Augmentis. 

-  The  names  of  the  characters  or  actors  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress 
but  stand  for  mental  qualities. 

^  Note  throughout  this  Baconian  use  of  the  word  "part."  See 
p.  58,  note  3. 


72  INTRODUCTION". 

note  for  future  reference.'  In  ch.  2  we  have  covert  meth- 
ods touched  upon  for  the  handing  on  of  writings  to  pos- 
terity, and  called  "  the  wisdom  of  transmission."  He  in 
this  notes  a  deficiency  in  these  words  :  "  Therefore  I  note 
it  as  deficient,  and  term  it  the  Handing  on  the  Lamp,  or 
Method -of  Delivery  to  Posterity."  In  ch.  3  the  method 
of  transmission  by  cipher  writing  is  presented,  and  to 
which  we  have  already  alluded.  Under  the  head  of  soph- 
isms in  this  chapter  may  be  found  covert  allusions,  we 
think,  to  his  own  troubles,  later  to  fall  under  review. 
The  first  alluded -to  chapter  opens  thus  : 

"  It  is  permitted  to  every  man  (excellent  King)  to  make 
merry  with  himself  and  his  own  matters.  Who  knows, 
then,  but  this  work  of  mine  is  copied  from  a  certain  old 
book  found  in  the  most  famous  library  of  St.  Victor,  of 
which  Master  Francis  Eabelais  made  a  catalogue  ?  For 
there  is  a  book  there  entitled  '  The  Ant-Hill  of  Arts.' 
And  certainly  I  have  raised  up  here  a  little  heap  of  dust, 
and  stored  under  it  a  great  many  grains  of  sciences  and. 
arts  ;  into  which  the  ants  may  creep  and  rest  for  a  while, 
and  there  prepare  themselves  for  fresh  labours.  Now  the 
wisest  of  kings  refers  sluggards  to  the  ants  ;  and  for  my  part 
I  hold  all  men  for  sluggards  who  care  only  to  use  what 
they  have  got,  without  preparing  for  new  seed-times  and 
new  harvests  of  knowledge. 

"  Let  us  now  proceed  to  the  art  of  Transmitting,  or  of 
producing  and  expressing  to  others  those  things  which 
have  been  invented,  judged,  and  laid  up  in  the  memory  ; 
which  I  will  call  by  a  general  name  the  Art  of  Transmis- 
sion. This  art  includes  all  the  arts  which  relate  to  words 
and  discourse.  For  although  reason  be,  as  it  were,  the  soul 
of  discourse,  yet  in  the  handling  of  them  reason  and  dis- 
course should  be  kept  separate,  no  less  than  soul  and 
body.     .     .     . 

"  I  must  speak  concerning  the  Organ  of  Transmission  in 
general.  For  it  seems  that  the  art  of  transmission  has  some 
other  children^  besides  Words  and  Letters.    This,  then,  may 

'  Bacon,  as  Addison,  sat  in  that  chair,  and  said  what  he  liked,  in 
laudation  of  his  work.  Sitting  within  this  veil,  or  "weed,"  gave 
freedom  to  speak  a  century  after  he  was  in  his  grave.  His  purpose 
in  this  undisclosed  work  will  later  come  into  view,  and  hinted  at  by 
the  word  "  use"  in  the  previous  paragraph. 

^  Let  the  reader  keep  his  eye  a  little  upon  the  word  "  children" 
as  here  applied  to  literary  products. 


INTRODUCTION.  73 

be  laid  down  as  a  rule  ;  that  whatever  can  be  divided  into 
differences  sufficiently  numerous  to  explain  the  variety  of 
notions  (provided  those  differences  be  perceptible  to  the 
sense)  may  be  made  a  vehicle  to  convey  the  thoughts  of 
one  man  to  another.  For  we  see  that  nations  which  under- 
stand not  one  another's  language  carry  on  their  commerce 
well  enough  by  means  of  gestures.  And  in  the  practice 
of  some  who  had  been  deaf  and  dumb  from  their  birth 
and  were  otherwise  clever,  I  have  seen  wonderful  dialogues 
carried  on  between  them  and  their  friends  who  had  learned 
to  understand  their  gestures.'  Moreover,  it  is  now  well 
known  that  in  China  and  the  provinces  of  the  furthest 
East  there  are  in  use  at  this  day  certain  real  characters, 
not  nominal  ;  characters,  I  mean,  which  represent  neither 
letters  nor  words,  but  things  and  notions  ;  insomuch  that 
a  number  of  nations  whose  languages  are  altogether  differ- 
ent, but  who  agree  in  the  use  of  such  characters  (which 
are  more  widely  received  among  them),  communicate  with 
each  other  in  writing,  to  such  an  extent,  indeed,  that  any 
book  written  in  characters  of  this  kind  can  be  read  off  by 
each  nation  in  their  own  language, 

"The  Notes  of  Tilings,  then,  which  carry  a  significa- 
tion without  the  help  or  intervention  of  words,  are  of 
two  kinds  :  one  ex  congruo,  where  the  note  has  some 
congruity  with  the  notion,  the  other  ad  placitum,  where 
it  is  adopted  and  agreed  upon  at  pleasure.^  Of  the 
former  kind  are  Hieroglyphics  and  Gestures  ;  of  the 
latter  the  Real  Characters  above  mentioned.  The  use 
of  Hieroglyphics  is  very  old,  and  held  in  a  kind  of 
reverence,  especially  among  the  Egyptians,  a  very  an- 
cient nation.  So  that  they  seem  to  have  been  a  kind  of 
earlier  born  writing,  and  older  than  the  very  elements  of 
letters,  except  perhaps  among  the  Hebrews.  Gestures  are 
as  transitory  Hieroglyphics.  For  as  uttered  words  fly 
away,  but  written  words  stand,  so  Hieroglyphics  express- 
ed in  gestiires  pass,  but  expressed  in  pictures  remain. 
.     .     .     Ileal  characters,  on  the  other  hand,  have  nothing 

'  Read  in  this  connection  the  early  chapters,  and  particularly  ch. 
3,  of  the  Defoe  work  entitled  Duncan  Campbell,  a  dumb  philoso- 
pher, and  which  shows  research  here,  and  great  research  into  the 
subject  of  second  sight. 

^  Promus,  1133.  Motion  of  the  mind.  Explicate  in  words,  impli- 
cate in  thoughts.  I  judge  best  implicate  in  thoughts.  I  hail  or  mark 
because  of  swiftness  collocat  and  differ  to  make  words  sequac  (sic). 


74  INTRODUCTION. 

emblematic  in  them,  but  are  merely  surds,  no  less  than 
the  elements  of  letters  themselves,  and  are  only  framed 
ad  placitum,  and  silently  agreed  on  by  custom.  It  is  evi- 
dent, however,  that  a  vast  multitude  of  them  is  wanted  for 
writing  ;  for  there  ought  to  be  as  many  of  them  as  there 
are  radical  words.  This  portion,  therefore,  of  the  doctrine 
of  the  Organ  of  Discourse,  which  relates  to  the  Notes  of 
Things,  I  set  down  as  wanting." 

These  methods,  and  please  note  them  for  future  refer- 
ence, were  in  great  part  the  outcome  of  Bacon's  mental 
amplitude.  The  mechanism  of  language  was  too  cum- 
brous for  him,  and  he  delighted  to  wing  his  way  in  meth- 
ods by  which  he  might  in  a  single  mark  or  letter  embody 
an  entire  idea,  and  for  aught  we  know  an  entire  piece  of 
writing.  In  this,  fables,  in  a  measure,  lent  him  aid.  To 
express  thought  in  puzzles,  enigmas,  or  colors,  was  to  him 
a  pleasure,  and  his  mind  seems  as  if  framed  for  allegory. 
Whatever  was  difficult  was  a  pleasure,  and  knots  and  the 
undoing  of  them  was  a  delight.  As  he  delighted  in  em- 
bodying the  particulars  of  a  thought  in  a  single  mark,  so 
did  he  delight  to  sweep  from  his  tabled  particulars  of 
knowledge,  second  thoughts. 

It  is,  indeed,  probable  that  the  cipher  method  was  early 
employed  in  the  plays  ;  but  there  is  matter  appearing  at 
the  beginning  of  ch.  2  that  inclines  us  to  think  that  it 
may  have  been  abandoned  for  another.  Concerning  these 
ideas,  we  from  ch.  2  quote  as  follows  :  "  And  first,  for 
the  '  one  and  only  method,'  with  its  distribution  of  every- 
thing into  two  members,  it  is  needless  to  speak  of  it ;  for 
it  was  a  kind  of  cloud  that  overshadowed  knowledge  for 
awhile  and  blew  over  ;  a  thing  no  doubt  both  very  weak 
in  itself  and  very  injurious  to  the  sciences.  For  while 
these  men  press  matters  by  the  laws  of  their  method,  and 
Avhen  a  thing  does  not  aptly  fall  into  those  dichotomies, 
either  pass  it  by  or  force  it  out  of  its  natural  shape,  the 
effect  of  their  proceeding  is  this  :  the  kernels  and  grains 
of  the  sciences  leap  out,  and  they  are  left  with  nothing  in 
their  grasp  but  the  dry  and  barren  husks.  And  therefore 
this  kind  of  method  produces  empty  abridgments'  and 
destroys  the  solid  substance  of  knowledge. 

'  And  in  Hamlet,  Act  ii.,  sc.  2,  p.  264,  we  have  : 
"  The  first  row  of  pious  chanson  will  show  you  more;  for  look, 
where  my  abridgment  comes." 


INTRODUCTION.  "^5 

"  Let  the  first  difference  of  Method,  then,  be  this  :  it  is 
either  Magistral  or  Initiative.  Observe,  however,  that  m 
using  the  word  '  initiative,'  I  do  not  mean  that  the  busi- 
ness of  the  latter  is  to  transmit  the  beginnings  only  of 
sciences,  of  the  former  to  transmit  the  entire  doctrine. 
On  the  contrary,  I  call  that  doctrine  initiative  (borrowing 
the  term  from  the  sacred  ceremonies)  which^  discloses  and 
lays  bare  the  very  mysteries  of  the  sciences.  The  magistral 
method  teaches  ;  the  initiative  intimates.  The  magistral 
requires  that  what  is  told  should  be  believed  ;  the  initiative 
that  it  should  be  examined.'  The  one  transmits  knowl- 
edge to  the  crowd  of  learners  ;  the  other  to  the  sons,  as  it 
were,  of  science." 

That  he  intended  a  portion  of  his  writings  should  be 
handed  down  through  some  chosen  device  may  be  seen 
from  his  article  entitled  "  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Na- 
ture "  which  ends  thus  :  "  But  the  method  of  publishing 
these  things  is  to  have  such  of  them  as  tend  to  seize  the 
correspondences  of  dispositions  and  purge  the  areas  of 
minds  given  out  to  the  vulgar  and  talked  of  ;  and  to  have 
the  rest  handed  down  with  selection  and  judgment.  Nor 
am  I  ignorant  that  it  is  a  common  and  trite  artifice  ot 
impostors  to  keep  apart  from  the  vulgar  certain  things 
which  are  nothing  better  than  the  impertinences  they  set 
forth  to  the  vulgar.  But  without  any  imposture,  from 
sound  providence,  I  foresee  that  this  formula  of  interpre- 
tation, and  the  inventions  made  by  it,  will  be  more  vigor- 
ous and  secure  when  contained  within  legitimate  and 
chosen  devices.  Yet  I  undertake  these  things  at  the  risk 
of  others.  For  none  of  those  things  which  depend  upon 
externals  concern  me  ;  nor  do  I  hunt  after  fame,  or,  like 
the  heretics,  take  delight  in  establishing  a  sect ;  and  to  re- 
ceive any  private  emolument  from  so  great  an  undertaking, 
I  hold  to  be  both  ridiculous  and  base.  Sufficient  for  me 
is  the  consciousness  of  desert,  and  the  very  accomplish- 
ment itself  of  things,  which  even  fortune  cannot  with- 
stand."    (Works,  vol.  2,  p.  550.) 

He  says  :  "  Yet  I  undertake  these  things  at  the  risk  of 
others."  And  what  risk?  We  shall  later  see  when  we 
>  Bacon  seemed  to  desire  to  be  ever  hunted  for  and  yet  not  found; 
and  so  that  when  thought  in  the  grasp,  to  shp  on  a  little  betore 
In  other  words,  he  kept  the  globe  of  his  knowledge  turning.  Ot 
this  globe  he  was  the  radiating  centre,  and  was  both  Us  latitude  and 
longitude. 


76  INTRODUCTION. 

come  to  that  gigantic  stage  prepared  for  the  actors  of 
another  historic  period.  As  to  how  well  they  performed 
their  parts,  that  is  a  matter  which,  to  use  a  Baconian 
expression,  "  may  he  considered  hy  itself.'" 

We  would  have  the  reader  here  note  the  words  "  provi- 
dence" and  "  fortune"  as  used  in  the  foregoing  quota- 
tion, and  which  will  be  found  to  have  their  distinctive 
Baconian  use  throughout  the  works  under  review.  The 
word  providence  will,  indeed,  be  found  a  royal  word  in 
the  Baconian  philosophy,  and  it  may  not  improperly  be 
said  to  be  a  kind  of  key  to  its  entrance.  This  word,  and 
in  the  same  sense  of  use  as  in  our  noted  headlight — his 
letter  to  Lord  Burghley — is  in  some  publications  changed 
to  "  province,"  thinking  it  doubtless  an  erroneous  use  of 
the  word,  and  which  but  shows  the  care  that  should  be 
exercised  before  changing  an  author's  chosen  words.  Mr. 
Montagu  changes  the  word  in  said  letter  to  "  province," 
yet  preserves  the  true  word  in  a  foot-note,  while  Mr.  Spead- 
ing  and  others  change  it,  and  without  note  or  explanation. 

Bacon  makes  this  word  stand  for  all  that  which  is  pro- 
visional in  mind,  and  as  extending  thence  over  operating 
nature.  When  a  providing,  provision,  or  providence,  is  by 
mere  human  ideation,  it  is  a  human  provision  or  provi- 
dence ;  but  back  of  or  influential  in  this  ideation  is  that 
which  is  divine.  And  so  in  his  interpretation  of  the  fable 
entitled  "Prometheus,  or  the  State  of  Man,"  he  says: 
"  For  this  one  reason  no  doubt  was,  that  the  nature  of 
man  includes  mind  and  intellect,  which  is  the  seat  of 
Providence  ;  and  since  to  derive  mind  and  reason  from 
principles  brutal  and  irrational  would  be  harsh  and  in- 
credible, it  follows  almost  necessarily  that  the  human 
spirit  was  endowed  with  providence  not  without  the  prec- 
edent and  intention  and  warrant  of  the  greater  pi'ovidence." 

We  likewise  find  him  using  the  expression  "  and  from 
the  deepest  providence  of  my  mind  ;"  and  in  this  sense  it 
was  that  he  undertook  to  have  a  provision  or  providence 
over  all  human  learning.  And  so  in  the  play  of  Hamlet 
he  makes  the  king,  concerning  the  killing  of  Polonius, 
say  : 

"  Alas  !  how  shall  this  bloody  deed  be  answered  ? 
It  will  be  laid  to  us,  whose  providence 
Should  have  kept  short,  restrain'd  and  out  of  haunt, 
This  mad  young  man." 


INTRODUCTION.  7T 

What  shall  we  say  to  this  ?  Here  we  have  a  word,  and 
an  exceedingly  important  one,  used  in  so  unusual  a  sense 
that  all  of  Bacon's  biographers  have  seen  fit  to  substitute 
for  it  another  ;  and  yet  in  the  same  identical  Baconian 
sense  do  we  find  it  used  in  the  plays. 

Bacon,  in  his  "  Essay  on  Truth,"  says  :  "  Certainly  it 
is  heaven  on  earth  to  have  a  man's  mind  move  in  charity, 
rest  in  providence,^  and  turn  upon  the  poles  of  truth." 
When  such  mental  state  exists  the  human  and  Divine 
Providence  are,  according  to  Bacon's  views,  at  one  or  in 
accord,  and  hence  the  reaching  of  ends  otherwise  unattain- 
able. 

Concerning  the  Divine  Providence  he  says  : 

"  That  notwithstanding  God  had  rested  and  ceased  from 
creating  since  the  first  Sabbath,  yet,  nevertheless,  he  doth 
accomplish  and  fulfil  his  divine  will  in  all  things,  great 
and  small,  singular  and  general,  as  fully  and  exactly  by 
providence,  as  he  could  by  miracle  and  new  creation, 
though  his  working  be  not  immediate  and  direct,  but  by 
compass  ;  not  violating  nature,  which  is  his  own  law,  upon 
the  creature." 

"  That  at  the  first,  the  soul  of  man  was  not  produced 
by  heaven  or  earth,  but  was  breathed  immediately  from 
God  ;  so  that  the  ways  and  proceedings  of  God  with  spirits 
are  not  included  in  nature  ;  that  is,  in  the  laws  of  heaven 
and  earth  ;  but  are  reserved  to  the  law  of  his  secret  will 
and  grace,  wherein  God  worketh  still,  and  resteth  not 
from  the  work  of  redemption,  as  he  resteth  from  the  work 
of  creation,  but  continueth  working  till  the  end  of  the 
world  ;  what  time  that  work  also  shall  be  accomplished 
and  an  eternal  sabbath  shall  ensue.'"  (Works,  vol.  ii., 
p.  408.) 

'  In  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  357,  we  have:  "When  I  consider  this 
cheerful  state  of  mind  in  its  third  relation,  I  cannot  but  look  into  it 
as  a  constant  habitual  gratitude  to  the  great  Author  of  nature.  An 
inward  cheerfulness  is  an  implicit  praise  and  thanksgiving  to  Provi- 
dence under  all  its  dispensations.  It  is  a  kind  of  acquiescence  in  the 
state  wherein  we  are  placed,  and  a  secret  approbation  of  the  Divine 
Will  in  his  conduct  towards  men."  This  most  admirable  article 
should  be  read. 

*  As  to  the  winds.  Bacon  says  :  "  They  are  not  primary  creatures, 
nor  among  the  works  of  the  six  days  ;  as  neither  are  the  other  meteors 
actually  ;  but  produced  according  to  the  order  of  creation"  (p.  51). 

^  In  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p  129,  we  have:  "But  what  I  would 
chiefly  insist  upon  here,  is,  that  we  are  not  at  present  in  a  proper  sit- 


78  INTRODUCTION. 

In  ch.  4  of  Book  IIL  of  the  De  Augmentis  he  says  : 
"  Nor  does  this  call  Divine  Providence  in  question,  but 
rather  highly  confirms  and  exalts  it  ;  for  as  he  is  a 
greater  politician,  who  can  make  others  the  instruments 
of  his  will,  without  acquainting  them  with  his  designs, 
than  he  who  discloses  himself  to  those  he  employs  ;  so  the 
wisdom  of  God  appears  more  wondrous  when  nature  in- 
tends one  thing,  and  Providence  draws  out  another,  than 
if  the  characters  of  Providence  were  stamped  upon  all  the 
schemes  of  matter  and  natural  motion." 

In  his  interpretation  of  the  fable  of  Pau,  ch.  13,  Book 
II.  of  the  De  Augmentis,  he,  concerning  the  shepherd's 
crook,  says  :  "  That  sheephook,  also  representing  empire, 
contains  a  noble  metaphor,  alluding  to  the  mixture  of 
straight  and  crooked  in  the  ways  of  nature.  And  this  rod 
or  staff  is  crooked  princi[)ally  in  the  upper  part  ;  because 
all  of  the  works  of  Divine  Providence  in  the  world  are 
mostly  brought  about  in  a  mysterious  and  cii'cuitous  man- 
ner, so  that  while  one  thing  appears  to  be  doing  another 
is  doing  really  ;  as  the  selling  of  Joseph  into  Egypt  and 
the  like.  Moreover,  in  all  wise  human  governments,  those 
who  sit  at  the  helm  can  introduce  and  insinuate  what  they 
desire  for  the  good  of  the  people  more  successfully  by  pre- 
texts and  indirect  ways  than  directly.  Nay  (which  per- 
chance may  seem  strange),  even  in  mere  natural  things 
you  may  deceive  nature  sooner  than  force  her  ;  so  ineffec- 
tual and   self -impeding  are  all    things   which   are   done 

nation  to  judge  of  the  counsels  by  wliicli  Providence  acts,  since  but 
little  arrives  at  our  knowledge,  and  even  that  little  we  discern  im- 
perfectly ;  or,  accoi'diug  to  the  elegant  figure  in  holy  writ,  '  we 
see  but  in  part,  and  as  in  a  glass  darkly.'  It  is  to  be  considered 
that  Providence,  in  its  economy,  regards  the  whole  system  of  time 
and  things  together,  so  that  we  cannot  discover  the  beautiful  con- 
nections between  incidents  which  lie  widely  separated  in  time,  and 
by  losing  so  many  links  of  the  chain  our  reasonings  become  broken 
and  imperfect.  Thus  those  parts  in  the  moi-al  world  which  have 
not  an  absolute,  may  yet  liave  a  relative  beauty,  in  respect  to  some 
other  parts  concealed  from  us,  but  open  tu  His  eyes  before  whom 
'  past,  present,  and  to  come  '  are  set  together  in  one  point  of  view  ; 
and  those  events,  the  permission  of  which  seems  now  to  accuse  His 
goodness,  may,  in  the  consummation  of  things,  both  magnify  his  good- 
ness and  exalt  his  wisdom.  And  this  is  enough  to  check  our  pre- 
sumption, since  it  is  in  vain  to  apply  our  measures  of  regularity  to 
matters  of  which  we  know  neither  the  antecedents  nor  the  conse- 
quents, the  beginning  nor  the  end."  This  admirable  article  should 
be  read  in  full. 


INTRODUCTION.  79 

directly  ;  whereas,  on  the  other  hand,  the  indirect  and 
insinuating  way  proceeds  smoothly  and  gains  its  end,"  ' 

In  the  Anatomy  of  Mehmcholy,  vol.  i.,  p.  392,  it  is 
said  :  "  For  I  am  of  his  mind,^  that  Columbus  did  not 
find  out  America  by  chance,  but  God  directed  him  at  that 
time  to  discover  it ;  it  was  contingent  to  him,  but  neces- 
sary to  God  ;  he  reveals  and  conceals  to  whom  and  when 
he  will  ;  and,  which  one  said  of  history  and  records  of 
former  times,  God  in  his  providence,  to  check  our  pre- 
sumptuous inquisition,^  wraps  up  all  things  in  uncertainty, 
bars  us  from  long  antiquity,  and  bounds  our  search  within 
the  compass  of  some  few  ages." 

In  the  A.  D.  B.  Mask,  p.  24,  we  have  :  "  Finally  let 
this  most  memorable  verse  also  like  and  delight  every 
courtier  and  honest  Christian  : 

"  Iq  God's  Almighty  hand  of  Providence 
Lies  all  my  Lot,  Health,  Wealth,  Inheritance." 

And  ch.  5  of  the  Serious  Eeflections  of  Robinson  Crusoe 
will  be  found  a  succinct  collation  of  Lord  Bacon's  distinc- 
tive views,  not  as  to  a  human,  but  as  to  the  Divine  Provi- 
dence. We  will  give  place  to  some  passages  from  it,  and 
first  to  one  from  p.  65,  where  occurs  Lord  Bacon's  expres- 
sion, and  in  his  sense  of  use,  "  lead  by  the  hand," 

"  You  may  easily  observe  the  differences  between  the 
directions  and  warnings  of  Providence  when  duly  listened 
to  and  the  notices  of  spirits  from  an  invisible  world — 
viz.,  that  these  are  dark  hints  of  evil,  with  very  little 
direction  to  avoid  it ;  but  those  notices  which  are  to  be 
taken  from  the  proceedings  of   Providence,   though  the 

'  And  so  in  Hamlet,  Act  ii.,  so.  1,  p.  248,  we  have  : 

"  Your  bait  of  falsehood  takes  this  carp  of  truth. ; 
And  thus  do  we  of  wisdom  and  of  reach, 
With  windlaces,  and  with  assays  of  bias, 
By  indirections  tind  directions  out  : 
So,  by  my  former  lecture  and  advice. 
Shall  you  my  son." 
'  The  expressions  "  For  I  am  of  his  mind,"  and  "  For  I  am  of  his 
opinion,"  were  common  with  Bacon.     He  says  :  "  For  I  am  of  his 
opinion  that  said  pleasantly,  That  it  was  a  shame  to  him  that  was 
a  suitor  to  tJie  mistress,  to   make   love   to   the   waitiiig-icoman ;   and 
therefore  to  woo  or  court  common  fame  otherwise  than  it  followeth 
upon  honest  courses,   I,   for  my  part,  find  not  myself  fit  nor  dis- 
posed."    (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iii.,  p.  141.) 
^  See  Bacon's  use  of  this  word  "  inquisition,"  p.  63. 


80  INTRODUCTION. 

voice  be  a  kind  of  silent  or  soft  whisper,  yet  it  is  generally 
attended  with  an  offer  of  the  means  for  escaping  the  evil, 
nay,  very  often  leads  by  the  hand'  to  the  very  proper  steps 
to  be  taken,  and  even  obliges  us,  by  a  strong  conviction 
of  the  reason  of  it,  to  take  those  steps." 

And  from  the  Defoe  History  of  Apparitions,  Talboy 
edition,  p.  il,  we  have  :  "  Julius  Csaesar  had  several  hints 
given  him  of  his  approaching  fate  ;  one  particular  sooth- 
sayer pointed  out  the  very  day  to  him,  namely,  the  ides  of 
March,  but  he  had  no  power  to  avoid  his  fate.  The  kind 
spirit  that  foreboded  and  gave  hints  to  him  that  he  was 
in  danger,  as  if  contented  with  having  done  his  part,  left 
him  to  be  murdered.  No  assistance  given  him  to  rouse 
up  his  spirits  to  take  the  alarm  :  he  is  not  led  by  the  hand, 
and  told,  Go  not  into  the  senate-house,  as  was  done  for 
Lot,  Escape  for  thy  life.  The  kind  monitor  does  not  name 
the  traitors  and  assassinators  to  him,  and  say,  Brutus,  and 
(Jassius,  Casca,  and  others,  wait  there  to  kill  you  ;  as  the 
angel  to  Joseph,  Herod  will  seek  the  young  child  to  destroy 
Mm. 

"And,  on  the  other  side,  Cfesar,  bold  and  unalarmed, 
-indolent,  and  having  things  not  sufficiently  explained  to 
him  (and  the  good  spirit,  as  may  be  supposed,  able  to  do 
no  more  for  him),  goes  on,  enters  the  senate-house,  mocks 
the  soothsayer,  and  tells  him  the  ides  of  March  are  come, 

'  In  one  of  his  articles  on  the  "  Interpretation  of  Nature"  Bacon 
says  :  "  But  I  ahnost  agree  with  thee,  my  son,  and  will  lead  thee 
higher  by  the  hand."  (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  544  ;  see  also  p.  551.)  And, 
Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  413,  it  is  said,  "but  when  he  uses  some 
direction  and  order  in  experimenting,  it  is  as  if  he  were  led  by  the 
hand  ;  and  this  is  what  I  mean  by  Learned  Experience."  In 
The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  97,  we  have  :  "  I  saw,  moreover,  in  my 
dream  that  the  Interpreter  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  had  him  into 
a  little  room,  where  sat  two  little^children,  each  one  in  his  chair.  The 
name  of  the  eldest  was  Passion,  and  the  name  of  the  other  Pa- 
tience." It  may  be  noticed  that  in  each  instance  in  The  Pilgrim's 
Progress  where  the  penitent  is  presented  with  a  form  or  pattern  for 
thought,  that  the  Interpreter  takes  him  by  the  hand  and  leads  him 
to  it.  This  pattern,  as  to  "Passion"  and  "Patience,"  should  be 
noted,  and  let  the  reader  keep  his  eye  a  little  upon  the  word  "  pa- 
tience" as  used  in  the  plays.  And  in  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  94,  we 
have  :  "  There  was  sent,  in  her  stead,  a  goddess  of  a  quite  different  tig- 
ure  :  her  motions  were  steady  and  composed,  and  her  aspect  serious 
but  cheerful.  She  every  now  and  then  cast  her  eyes  towards 
heaven,  and  fixed  (hem  upoji  Jupiter  ;  her  name  was  Patience." 


INTRODUCTION.  81 

who  sharply  returned,  But  they  are  not  past.>  In  a  word, 
neglecting  his  own  safety,  and  wanting  a  complete  infor- 
mation, he  goes  into  the  senate  and  is  murdered. "  ^  Eead 
in  this  connection  Bacon's  interpretation  of  the  fable 
Nemesis  ;  or,  The  Vicissitude  of  Things. 

But  we  return  to  Crusoe,  and  from  p.  60  quote  thus  : 

"  I  have  already  hinted  that  he  that  made  the  world  we 
are  sure  guides  it,  and  his  Providence  is  equally  wonderful 
as  his  power.  But  nothing  in  the  whole  course  of  his 
Providence  is  more  worthy  our  regard,  especially  as  it  con- 
cerns us  his  creatures,  than  the  silent  voice,  if  it  may  be 
allowed  me  to  call  it  so,  of  his  managing  events  and 
causes.  He  that  listens  to  the  Providence  of  God,  listens 
to  the  voice  of  God,  as  he  is  seen  in  the  wonders  of  his 
government,  and  as  he  is  seen  in  the  wonders  of  his  omnip- 
otence. 

"If,  then,  the  events  of  things  are  his,  as  well  as  the 
causes,  it  is  certainly  well  worth  our  notice,  when  the  sym- 
pathy or  relation  between  events  of  things  and  their  causes 
most  eminently  appears  ;  and  how  can  any  man,  who  has 
the  least  inclination  to  observe  what  is  remarkable  in  the 
world,  shut  his  eyes  to  the  visible  discovery  whicli  there  is 
in  the  events  of  Providence  of  a  supreme  hand  guiding 
them ;  for  example,  when  visible  punishments  follow 
visible  crimes,  who  can  refrain  confessing  the  apparent 
direction  of  supreme  justice  ?  When  concurrence  of  cir- 
cumstances directs  to  the  cause,  men  that  take  no  notice 
of  such  remarkable  pointings  of  Providence  openly  con- 
temn^ heaven,  and  frequently  stand  in  the  light  of  their 
own  advantages. 

"  The  concurrence  of  events  is  a  light  to  their  causes, 
and  the  methods  of  heaven,  in  some  things,  are  a  happy 
guide  to  us  to  make  a  judgment  in  others  ;  he  that  is  deaf 

'  Bacon  says  :  "No  conquest  of  Julius  Caesar  made  him  so  re- 
membered as  the  calendar. "  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p.  335.)  He 
also  began  an  article  entitled  A  Civil  Character  of  Julius  Cajsar,  but 
which  was  never  finished.  As  to  Csesar's  character  and  the  ides  of 
March,  see  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  pp.  98  and  99. 

*  Bacon  recommended  the  writing  of  a  History  of  Diagnostics  ; 
or.  Secret  Natural  Judgments  ;  also  a  History  of  Natural  Divina- 
tion. 

^  Note  throughout  the  plays  and  in  every  phase  of  this  literature 
the  use  of  this  word  "  contemns." 


82  INTRODUCTION. 

to  these  things  shuts  his  ears  to  instruction,  and,  like  Solo- 
mon's fool,  hates  knowledge." 

And  on  p.  63  we  have  : 

"  It  would  be  an  ill  account  we  should  give  of  the  gov- 
ernment of  Divine  Providence  in  the  world,  if  we  should 
argue  that  its  events  are  so  unavoidable  and  every  circum- 
stance so  determined  that  nothing  can  be  altered,  and 
that  therefore  these  warnings  of  Providence  are  inconsis- 
tent with  the  nature  of  it.  This,  besides  that  I  think  it 
would  take  from  the  sovereignty  of  Providence,  and  deny 
even  G-od  himself  the  privilege  of  being  a  free  agent,  it 
w^ould  also  so  contradict  the  experience  of  every  man  liv- 
ing, in  the  varieties  of  his  respective  life,  that  he  should 
be  unable-  to  give  any  account  for  what  end  many  things 
which  Providence  directs  in  the  world  are  directed,  and 
why  so  many  things  happen  which  do  happen.  Why  are 
evils  attending  us  so  evidently  foretold,  that  by  those 
foretellings  they  are  avoided,  if  it  was  not  determined 
before  they  should  be  avoided  and  should  not  befall  us? 

"  People  that  tie  up  all  to  events  and  causes  strip  the 
Providence  of  God  which  guides  the  world  of  all  its  super- 
intendency,  and  leave  it  no  room  to  act  as  a  wise  disj)oser 
of  things. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  the  immutable  wisdom  and  power 
of  the  Creator  and  the  notion  of  it  in  the  minds  of  men  is 
as  dutifully  preserved  and  is  as  legible  to  our  understand- 
ing, though  there  be  a  hand  left  at  liberty  to  direct  the 
course  of  natural  causes  and  events.  It  is  sufficient  to  the 
honour  of  an  immutable  Deity,  that,  for  the  common  in- 
cidents of  life,  they  be  left  to  the  disposition  of  a  daily 
agitator — namely.  Divine  Providence,  to  order  and  direct 
them  as  it  shall  see  good,  within  the  natural  limits  of  cause 
and  consequence. 

"  This  seems  to  me  a  much  more  rational  system  than 
that  of  tying  up  the  hands  of  the  Supreme  Power  to  a  road 
of  things,'  so  that  none  can  be  acted  or  permitted  but 
such  as  was  so  appointed  before  to  be  acted  and  per- 
mitted." 

'  Aphorism  41,  book  2  of  the  Novum  Organ iim  opens  thus  :_  "  In  the 
eighteenth  rank  of  prerogative  instances  we  will  class  the  instances 
of  the  road,  which  we  are  also  wont  to  call  itinerant  and  jointed  in- 
stances. They  are  such  as  indicate  the  gradually  continued  motions 
of  nature." 


INTRODUCTION.  83 

And  we  may  add  that  the  activities,  in  the  outer  world 
may  be  equally  traced  into  the  automatic  and  influential 
activities  within  the  human  body  itself,  as  manifested  in 
its  organic  and  in  its  influential  system  of  nerves.  The 
influential  system  gathers  from  and  is  chiefly  concerned 
with  that  which  is  external.  And  the  organic  or  automatic, 
on  which  it  rests,  with  that  which  is  internal.  While  these 
internal  processes  give  organization,  and  thence  sustention  ' 
to  the  influential,  they  still  function  not  into  the  influential 
or  ideational  field.  They,  however,  or  their  formative  ves- 
sels, manifest  a  kind  of  providence,  wisdom,  or  intelligence 
in  their  selection  and  use  of  material  far  transcending  idea- 
tion, which  is  but  a  human  process  resulting  from  accu- 
mulated and  retained  impressions  from  things,  upon  that 
kind  of  intelligence  which  we  call  human  ;  and  which  rests 
not  in  mere  consciousness,  but  in  a  consciousness  of  self,  as 
separate  from  other  things.  As  the  dog  seeks  the  lowest 
point  to  jump  the  fence,  so  the  formative  vessels  step  outside 
their  routine  of  work  and  repair  the  broken  bone.  And  yet 
is  either  process  ideation  ?  and  if  so,  must  not  both  be  ?'  In 
man,  instinct — the  law  upon  the  creature — is  broken.  To 
have  ideation,  there  must  be  a  consciousness  of  self,  and  to 
have  a  consciousness  of  self,  is  to  be  a  person.  There  is, 
therefore,  a  kind  of  wisdom  within  organization  itself 
that  is  creative  ;  one  that  functions  not  into  human  con- 
sciousness, and  which  is  wiser  in  its  providence— that  is, 
in  its  provisional  selection  and  use  of  material,  than  is 
ideation  ;  one  that  not  only  builds  but  sustains  structure 
until  an  influential  or  spiritual  building  may  be  erected 
and  tenanted  by  material  effect,  and  whence  alone  a  future 
without  matter  is  rendered  possible.     Is  there  more  wonder 

_  '  The  forces  in  nature  below  self-consciousness  were  by  Bacon  be 
lieved  to  be,  as  it  were,  species  of  instincts,  and  in  Addison,  vol.  ii., 
p.  460,  we  have  :  "  There  is  not,  in  my  opinion,  anything  more  mysl 
terious  in  nature  than  this  instinct  in  animals,  which  thus  rises  above 
reason,  and  falls  infinitely  short  of  it.  It  cannot  be  accounted  for 
by  any  properties  in  matter,  and  at  the  same  time  works  after  so  odd 
a  manner,  that  one  cannot  think  it  the  faculty  of  an  intellectual  being. 
For  my  own  part,  I  look  upon  it  as  upon  the  principle  of  gravitation 
in  bodies,  which  is  not  to  be  explained  by  any  known  qualities  in- 
herent in  the  bodies  themselves,  nor  from  any  laws  of  mechanism, 
but  according  to  the  best  notions  of  the  greatest  philosophers,  is  an 
immediate  impression  from  the  first  mover,  and  the  Divine  energy 
acting  in  the  creatures." 


84  INTRODUCTION. 

as  to  outward  activities,  than  as  to  those  within  the  body, 
and  which  give  its  genesis? 

The  influential  in  man  has  a  limited  control  over  the  au- 
tomatic both  without  and  within  the  body,  and  in  two  ways, 
and,  as  Bacon  says,  in  but  two.  He  says  :  "  Whereas  men 
ought,  on  the  contrary,  to  have  a  settled  conviction  that 
things  artificial  differ  froQi  things  natural,  not  in  form  or 
essence,  but  in  the  efficient ;  that  man  has  in  truth  no 
power  over  nature,  except  that  of  motion — the  power, 
I  say,  of  putting  natural  bodies  together  or  separating 
them — and  the  rest  is  done  by  nature  working  within." 
(Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  506.) 

This  brings  us  to  the  consideration  of  that  other  noted 
Baconian  word  '*  fortune,"  and  concerning  which  Bacon 
says  : 

"  Such  a  cause  as  fortune  is  in  the  universe,  such  is  the 
will  in  man."  '    (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  544.) 

The  following  from  Bacon  will  be  found  variously  spread 
in  the  plays  :  "  Fortune  makes  him  a  fool  whom  she  makes 
her  darling." '    (Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  128.) 

"  If  a  man  look  sharply  and  attentively,  he  shall  see 
fortune  ;  for  though  she  be  blind,  she  is  not  invisible."* 
(Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  130.) 

"  But  I  will  leave  you  to  the  scorn  of  that  mistress  whom 
you  undertake  to  govern  ;  that  is,  to  fortune,  to  whom 
Philautia  hath  bound  you."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p. 
385). 

"  Corrupt  Statesman,  you  that  think  by  your  engines* 
and  motions  to  govern  the  wheel  of  fortune  ;  do  you  not 
mark  that  clocks  cannot  be  long  in  temper,  that  Jugglers 

1  See  the  able  article  upon  the  subject  of  fortune  in  Addison,  vol. 
iii.,  pp.  303-306. 

*  In  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  iii.,  sc.  1,  p.  97,  we  have  : 
"  Bom.  Oh  !  I  am  fortune's  fool." 

*  In  Henry  V.,  Act  iii.,  sc.  6.  p.  517,  we  have  : 

"  Flu.  By  your  patience,  anchient  Pistol.  Fortune  is  painted 
plind,  with  a  muffler  afore  her  eyes,  to  signify  to  you  that  fortune 
is  plind  :  And  she  is  painted  also  with  a  wheel,  to  signify  to  you, 
which  is  the  moral  of  it,  that  she  is  turning,  and  inconstant,  and 
mutability,  and  variation:  and  her  foot,  look  you,  is  fixed  upon  a 
splierical  stone,  which  rolls,  and  rolls,  and  rolls.  In  good  truth, 
the  poet  makes  a  most  excellent  description  of  it  :  fortune  is  an  ex- 
cellent moral." 

•*  Particularly  note  this  use  of  the  word  "  engine"  throughout  these 
writings.     See  our  quotation  from  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  69. 


INTKODUCTION.  85 

are  no  longer  in  request  when  their  tricks  and  slights  are 
once  perceived?"     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p.  384.) 

"  And  lastly,  it  is  not  amiss  for  men  m  their  race 
toward  their  fortune  to  cool  themselves  a  little  with  that 
conceit  which  is  elegantly  expressed  by  the  emperor  Charles 
the  Fifth  in  his  instructions  to  the  King  his  son,  that  for- 
tune hath  somewhat  of  the  nature  of  a  woman,  that  if  she 
be  too  much  wooed  she  is  the  further  off."  (Phil.  Works, 
vol.  iii.,  p.  473.) 

"  Fortune  is  like  Proteus  ;  if  you  persevere,  she  turns  to 
her  shape."     (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  483.) 

"  For  fortune  is  the  child  of  the  vulgar,  and  has  only 
found  favour  with  the  lighter  kind  of  philosophers."  (Phil. 
AVorks,  vol.  iv.,  p.  321.)  ,  ,         ^  j,    , 

"  For  the  things  necessary  for  the  acquisition  of  fortune 
are  neither  fewer  nor  less  difficult  nor  lighter  than  those  to 
obtain  virtue  ;  and  it  is  as  hard  and  severe  a  thing  to  be  a 
true  politician,  as  to  be  truly  moral.  But  the  handling 
hereof  concerns  learning  greatly,  both  in  honour  and  sub- 
stance ;  in  honour  principally,  that  pragmatical  men  may 
not  imagine  that  learning  is  like  a  lark,  which  can  mount 
and  sing  and  please  itself  and  nothing  else  ;  but  may  know 
that  it  rather  partakes  of  the  nature  of  a  hawk,  which  can 
soar  aloft,  and  can  also  descend  and  strike  upon  its  prey 
at  pleasure.  Again,  it  tends  to  the  perfection  of  learning, 
because  it  is  the  perfect  law  of  the  inquiry  of  truth,  '  that 
nothing  be  in  the  globe  of  .matter  which  has  not  its  parallel 
in  the  globe  of  crystal  or  the  understanding  '  ;_  that  is,  that 
there  be  nothing  in  practice  whereof  there  is  no  theory 
and  doctrine  ;  not,  however,  that  learning  admires  or  es- 
teems this  architecture  of  fortune  otherwise  than  as  an 
inferior  work  ;  for  no  man's  fortune  can  be  an  end  worthy 
of  the  gift  of  being  that  has  been  given  him  by  God  ;  and 
often  the  worthiest  men  abandon  their  fortunes  willingly, 
that  they  may  have  leisure  for  higher  pursuits.'  But, 
nevertheless,  fortune  as  an  instrument  of  virtue  and  merit 
deserves  its  own  speculation  and  doctrine. 

'  In  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  57,  we  have  :  "  Men  of  warm  imagina- 
tions and  towering  tliouglits  are  apt  to  overlooli  the  goods  of  fortune 
which  are  near  them  for  something  that  glitters  in  the  sightat  a  dis- 
tance ;  to  neglect  solid  and  substantial  happiness  for  what  is  showy 
and  superficial  ;  and  to  contemn  tliat  good  which  lies  withm  their 
reach,  for  that  which  they  are  not  capable  of  attaining." 


86  INTKODUCTION, 

"  To  this  doctrine  are  attached  certain  precepts,  some 
summary  and  some  scattered  or  "various  ;  whereof  the 
former  relate  to  the  just  knowledge  of  ourselves  and  others. 
Let  the  first  precept,  then  (on  which  the  knowledge  of 
others  turns),  be  set  down  as  this  :  that  we  obtain  (as  far 
as  we  can)  that  window  which  Momus^  required  ;  -who, 
seeing  in  the  frame  of  man's  heart  such  angles  and  recesses, 
found  fault  that  there  was  not  a  window  to  look  into  its 
mysterious  and  tortuous  windings,"  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  v., 
pp.  58,  59.) 

"  Of  much  like  kind  are  those  impressions  of  nature 
which  are  imposed  upon  the  mind  by  the  sex,  by  the  age, 
by  the  region,  by  health  and  sickness,  by  beauty  and  de- 
formity, and  the  like,  which  are  inherent  and  not  extern  f 
and  again  those  which  are  caused  by  extern  fortune  ;  as 
sovereignty,  nobility,  obscure  birth,  riches,  want,  magis- 
tracy, privateness,  prosperity,  adversity,  constant  fortune, 
variable  fortune,  rising  per  saltum,  per  graclus,  and  the 
like."    (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  436.) 

In  the  quotation  last  given  the  gifts  of  nature  and  the 
gifts  of  fortune  are  distinctly  marked  off,  or  classed  by 
themselves  ;  and  so  are  they  in  the  following,  from  the  play 
of  "  As  You  Like  It,"  Act  i.,  sc.  2,  p.  154  : 

'  Note  the  word  Momus  for  future  reference.  And  in  Addison, 
vol.  iv.,  p.  196,  we  have  :  "  You  must  understand,  sir,  I  had  yes- 
terday been  reading  and  ruminating  upon  that  passage  where  Momus 
is  said  to  have  found  fault  with  the  make  of  a  man,  because  he  had 
not  a  window  in  his  breast.  The  moral  of  this  story  is  very  obvi- 
ous, and  means  no  more  than  that  the  heart  of  man  is  so  full  of 
wiles  and  artifices,  treachery  and  deceit,  that  there  is  no  guess- 
ing at  what  he  is  from  his  speeches  and  outward  appearances." 
And  same  vol..  p.  149,  w'e  have  :  "Envy  and  cavil  are  the  nat- 
ural fruiisof  laziness  and  ignorance  ;  which  was  probably  the  reason 
that  in  the  heathen  mythology  Momus  is  said  to  be  the  son  of  Nox 
and  Somiius,  of  Darkness  and  Sleep.  Idle  men,  who  have  not  been 
at  the  pains  to  accomplish  or  distinguish  themselves,  are  very  apt  to 
detract  from  others  ;  as  ignorant  men  are  very  subject  to  decry  those 
beauties  in  a  celebrated  work  which  they  have  not  eyes  to  discover. 
Many  of  our  sons  of  Momus,  who  dignify  therpselves  by  the  name  of 
critics,  are  the  genuine  descendants  of  those  two  illustrious  ancestors." 
Later  we  shall  tind  these  thoughts  in  the  A.  D.  B.  Mask  and  in  the 
Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  and  they  will  all  be  brought  into  re- 
lation with  the  same  use  of  the  word  by  Swift  upon  the  subject  of 
critics. 

^  This  Baconian  word  "  extern"  we  shall  later  find  used  in  one  of 
the  sonnets. 


INTRODUCTION".  87 

"  Ros.  What  shall  be  our  sport  then  ? 

"  Cel.  Let  us  sit  and  mock  the  good  housewife.  Fortune,  from 
her  wheel,  that  her  gifts  may  henceforth  be  bestowed  equally. 

"  Ros.  I  would  we  could  do  so  ;  for  her  benefits  are  mightily  mis- 
placed ;  and  the  bountiful  blind  woman  doth  most  mistake  in  her 
gifts  to  women. 

"  Cel.  'Tis  true  ;  for  those  that  she  makes  fair,  she  scarce  makes 
honest ;  and  those  that  she  makes  honest,  she  makes  very  ill- 
favouredly. 

"  Ros.  Nay,  now  thou  goest  from  fortune's  office  to  nature's  : 
fortune  reigns  in  gifts  of  the  world,  not  in  the  lineaments  of  nature. 

Ulltei'    TODCHSTONE. 

"  Cel.  No  :  When  nature  hath  made  a  fair  creature,  may  she  not 
by  fortune  fall  into  the  fire  ?' — Though  nature  hath  given  us  wit  to 
flout  at  fortune,  hath  not  fortune  seat  in  this  fool  to  cut  off  the  argu- 
ment ? 

"  Ros.  Indeed,  there  is  fortune  too  hard  for  nature,  when  fortune 
makes  nature's  natural  the  cutter  off  of  nature's  wit. 

"  Cel.  Peradventure,'^  this  is  not  fortune's  work  neither,  but  na- 
ture's ;  who,  perceiving  our  natural  wits  too  dull  to  reason  of  such 
goddesses,  hath  sent  this  natural  for  our  whetstone  :^  for  always  the 
dulness  of  the  fool  is  the  whetstone  of  the  wits. — How  now,*  wit  ? 
whither  wander  you  ?" 

And  in  Act  ii.,  sc.  7,  p.  184,  we  have  : 

"  '  Good  morrow,'  fool,'  quoth  I  :  '  No,  sir,'  quoth  he,  'call  me 
not  fool,  till  heaven  hath  sent  me  fortune.'  "  ^ 

Having  now  touched  briefly  upon  the  subtle  and  distinc- 
tive views  spread  in  this  literature,  as  to  the  winds,  the 
spirits,  providence,  and  fortune,  we  conduct e  these  points 
in  a  word  concerning  the  play  of  The  Tempest,  said  to 
have  been  the  last  of  the  poet's  dramatic  works.  We  may 
here  find  represented  the  mentioned  subordinate  or  hu- 
man providence  so  blended  with  the  Divine  Providence 
that  it  seems  a  kind  of  royal  magic. 

The  powers  of  Prospero  in  this  play  seem  ever  worked  to 
but  just  and  beneficent  ends,  and  so  in  harmony  with  cir- 
cumstances as  to  leave  doubt,  as  to  whether  he  controls  their 
movements  or  falls  in  with  them. 

His  genius,  the  airy  spirit,  Ariel,  links  him  with  the 

'  Promus,  666.  To  leap  out  of  the  frying  pan  into  the  fire. 
^  Promus,  1371.  Perad  venture,  can  you,  Sp.  (what  can   you). 
^  Promus,  1066.  (Therefore  1  discharge  the  office  of  a  whetstone, 
which,  itself  incompetent  to  cut,  can  render  iron  sharp.) 
*  Promus,  313.  And  how  now. 
'  Promus,  1189.  Good  morrow. 
®  Promus,  493.  God  sendeth  fortune  to  fools. 


88  INTRODUCTION". 

world  above  him,  or,  in  another  sense,  with  the  better  age 
to  come.  Caliban,  the  monster,  the  warning,  represents 
the  low  deformed  bodily  organism,  or  body  of  the  times  ; 
in  another  sense  the  discordant  and  undeveloped  age  of 
science.  Miranda — his  philosophy — the  daughter  (Bacon 
says  :  "  For  truth  is  the  daughter  of  time,  not  of  author- 
ity"), links  him  with  the  world  about  and  within  him,  and 
in  which  is  wrapped  the  end  for  which  he  acts.  At  his 
advent  upon  the  island,  the  powers  that  so  obey  his  art 
were  discordant,  as  in  Caliban,  the  monster.  But  through 
him  or  his  art  they  became  somewhat  harmonized,  and  so 
a  triumph  of  art  over  nature. 

The  magic  here  represented  by  Bacon,  as  Prospero,  is 
the  magic  of  genius,  and  in  a  sense  so,  in  the  direction 
pointed  out.  But  in  another  sense  it  presents  him  follow- 
ing his  troubles  as  still  above  the  tempest  of  elements  at 
work  against  him,  and  the  elements  controlled  perplexing 
ones  in  his  own  life.  The  Spanish  Minister  Gondomar, 
as  Gonzalo  in  the  play,  was  the  friend  that  is  said  to  have 
given  back  his  library  or  books  after  being  abandoned  by 
both  Buckingham  and  the  king  ;  and  after  his  dukedom, 
his  Milan,  his  empire  of  learning,  had,  by  Buckingham, 
the  false  brother,  been  "  bowed  to  most  ignoble  stocking." 
In  still  another  sense  the  play  may  lay  deeper  in  meta- 
physics or  theolog3^  Bacon  claims  truth  to  be  an  island. 
He  claims  errors  to  be  monsters.  The  monster,  the  Eoman 
Church  and  the  rabble,  were  here  upon  his  truth,  his 
island,  and  claimed  now  to  be  "  the  lord  on't." 

The  view  secondly  presented,  will,  so  far  as  space  per- 
mits, be  the  one  which  we  shall  in  due  time  undertake  to 
elaborate. 

Bacon,  though  in  a  blind  way,  and  as  in  an  under-plot,* 

'  Would  the  reader  peruse  tlie  views  and  criticisms  of  the  great 
Shakespeare  himself  upon  the  subject  of  tragedies  ?  Let  him,  then, 
read  the  articles  in  Addison  upon  that  subject.  Concerning  under- 
plots in  plays,  we  from  one  of  these  articles  quote  the  following  :  "  The 
same  objections  which  are  made  to  tragi-comedy  may  in  some  measure 
be  applied  to  all  tragedies  that  have  a  double  plot  in  them  ;  which  are 
likewise  more  frequent  upon  the  English  stage  than  upon  any  other  ; 
for  though  the  grief  of  the  audience,  in  such  performances,  be  not 
changed  into  another  passion,  as  in  tragi -comedies,  it  is  diverted  upon 
another  object,  which  weakens  their  concern  for  the  principal  action, 
and  breaks  the  tide  of  sorrow  bj'  throwing  it  into  different  channels. 
This  inconvenience,  however,  may  in  a  great  measure  be  cured,  if 


INTRODUCTION".  89 

will  be  found  largely  self-centred  in  his  work.  Either 
chosen  or  self-prepared  framework  is  made  ever  to  proceed 
his  mountings,  analysis,  and  concentration. 

In  Hamlet  we  behold  him  entering  as  the  central  fig- 
ure, prepared  to  exercise  his  providence  over  all  knowl- 
edge, and  to  read  lessons,  not  merely  to  his  own  age,  but 
to  the  ages  ;  and  there  he  will  ever  stand  in  his  subtle 
and  scholastic  methods.  lie  was  indeed  a  seer.  And 
how  truly  were  his  words  to  Horatio,  in  the  ending  of 
this  great  play,  pertinent  to  the  close  of  his  own  life, 
where  he  says  : 

"  O  God  ! — Horatio,  what  a  wounded  name 
Tilings  standing  thus  unknown,  shall  live  behind  me  !" 

Nor  in  his  lifetime,  more  than  in  the  play,  did  Bacon, 
save  inferentially,  make  known  the  true  cause  of  his 
troubles,  as  we  shall  later  undertake  to  make  manifest. 
He  in  the  play  says  : 

' '  You  that  look  pale  and  tremble  at  this  chance, 
That  are  but  mutes  or  audience  to  this  act, 
Had  I  but  time,  (is  this  fell  sergeant,  death. 
Is  strict  in  his  arrest,)  O  !  I  could  tell  you — 
But  let  it  be. — Horatio,  I  am  dead  ; 
Thou  liv'st  ;  report  me  and  my  cause  aright 
To  the  unsatisfied." 

But  Bacon  had  no  Horatio,  unless  posterity  shall  be 
such. 

In  this  play,  initiatory  of  his  forthcoming  work,  is  pre- 
sented the  abuse  of  that  ruling  passion  of  the  mind,  which 
precipitates  all  the  others  upon  the  will  ;  and  hence  gives 
to  the  play  its  philosophic  and  melancholic  air.  Life  is 
robbed  of  its  charm,  the  most  subtle  cause  of  which  is  resi- 

not  wholly  removed,  by  the  skilful  choice  of  an  under-plot,  which 
may  bear  such  a  near  relation  to  the  principal  design  as  to  con- 
tribute toward  the  completion  of  it,  and  be  concluded  by  the  same 
catastrophe."  (Addison,  vol.  ii.,  p.  309.)  The  article  immediately 
preceding  this  one  opens  thus  :  "'  As  a  perfect  tragedy  is  the  noblest 
production  of  human  nature,  so  it  is  capable  of  giving  the  mind  one 
of  the  most  delightful  aud  most  improving  entertainments.  '  A  vir- 
tuous man  (says  Seneca)  struggling  with  misfortunes  is  such  a  spec- 
tacle as  gods  might  look  upon  witli  pleasure  ;'  and  such  a  pleasure  it 
is  which  one  meets  with  in  the  I'cpresentation  of  a  well-written  trag- 
edy. Diversions  of  this  kind  wear  out  of  our  thouglits  everything 
that  is  mean  and  little.  They  cherish  and  cultivate  that  humanity 
which  is  tlie  ornament  of  our  nature.  Tliey  soften  insolence,  soothe 
affliction,  and  subdue  the  mind  to  the  dispensations  of  Providence." 


90  INTRODUCTION. 

dent  in  sex,  and  out  of  the  abuse  of  which  grew  the  murder 
of  the  king,  Hamlet's  father,  and  his  own,  and  Ophelia's 
malady.     And  the  slough  of  despond  is  reached. 

The  mind  early  in  the  play  is  focalized  upon  the  life  to 
come,  and  the  will  puzzled,  by  the  introduced  ghost,  and 
air  of  mystery.'  The  platform  is  here  indeed  designed  to 
draw  on  the  building.  Bacon  says  :  "  Great  matters 
(especially  if  they  be  religious)  have  (many  times)  small 
beginnings  ;  and  the  platform  may  draw  on  the  building." 

He  also  says  :  "  The  human  understanding  is  most  ex- 
cited by  that  which  strikes  and  enters  the  mind  at  once 
and  suddenly,  and  by  which  the  imagination  is  immedi- 
ately filled  and  inflated."  While  Bacon  sought  to  weed 
the  subjects  of  magic  and  apparitions,  by  means  of  the 
Defoe  literature  upon  those  subjects,  he  was  still,  in  a 
sense,  a  believer  both  in  the  doctrine  of  second  sight  and 
apparitions,  as  we  shall  see  ;  and  hence  the  ghost,  and 
ghosts  of  the  plays. ^  While  in  the  Defoe  literature  we 
have  a  most  astute  philosopher,  we  still  have  not  a  philoso- 
phy, but  merely  Baconian  branches  of  a  philosophy. 

The  play  of  Hamlet  was  in  many  ways  typical  of  Bacon's 
forthcoming  work,  as  that  of  The  Tempest  was  of  its  close  ; 
and  its  searchings  were  to  be  such  as  to  be  likened  to  that 
tracing  in  imagination  of  the  noble  dust  of  Alexander, 
until  it  finds  it  ""'  stopping  a  bung-hole." 

'  Promus,  227.  (Upon  wondering,  men  begin  to  philosophize.) 
The  apparition  was  to  this  plaj'  what  the  unaccounted  for  foot- 
print in  the  sand  was  to  Crusoe.  Promus,  456.  (The  manes  of  fable 
— i.e.,  the  shades  of  the  departed  ghosts.) 

^  Mr.  Spedding  says:  "  Whence  Bacon  derived  his  idea  of  the  na- 
ture of  the  Persian  magic  is  a  question  with  which  we  need  not 
trouble  ourselves  here.  For  the  present  occasion  it  is  enough  to  know 
that  it  was  formerly  the  subject  of  many  speculations  ;  inferences 
perhaps  from  a  remark  iu  Plato,  that  the  princes  of  Persia  were  in- 
structed in  politics  and  in  magic  by  the  same  persons,  and  that  the 
method  of  analogy  in  which  Bacon  supposed  it  to  consist  was  be- 
lieved by  him  not  only  at  this  time  but  ever  after,  to  be  a  sound 
one."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iii.,  p.  89.)  See  in  this  connection  the 
Addison  article  on  apparitions,  vol.  ii..  pp.  440-443,  and  from  which 
we  quote  as  follows  :  "  I  should  not  have  been  thus  particular  upon 
these  ridiculous  horrors,  did  not  I  find  them  so  much  prevail  iu  all 
parts  of  the  country.  At  the  same  time,  I  think  a  person  who  is  thus 
terrified  with  the  imagination  of  ghosts  and  spectres  much  more 
reasonable  than  one  wlio,  contrary  to  the  reports  of  all  historians, 
sacred  and  pjrofane,  ancient  and  modern,  and  to  the  traditions  of  all 
nations,  thinks  the  appearance  of  spirits  fabulous  and  groundless." 


INTRODUCTION.  91 

Concerning  the  idols  of  the  theatre,  Bacon,  in  Aph.  44 
of  the  Novum  Organum,  Book  1,  says  :  "  Lastly,  there 
are  idols  which  have  crept  into  men's  minds  from  the 
various  dogmas  of  peculiar  systems  of  philosophy,  and  also 
from  the  perverted  rules  of  demonstration,  and  these  we  de- 
nominate idols  of  the  theatre  ;  for  we  regard  all  the  systems 
of  philosophy  hitherto  received  or  imagined,  as  so  many 
plays  brought  out  and  performed,  creating  fictitious  and 
theatrical  worlds. ' ' 

And  so  referring  in  this  great  play  to  his  own  then  un- 
published philosophy  as  a  babe,  he  says  :  "  Hark  you, 
Guildenstern  ; — and  you  too  ; — at  each  ear  a  hearer  :  that 
great  baby,  you  see  there,  is  not  yet  out  of  its  swaddling 
clouts." 

But  in  1605,  after  its  publication,  that  is,  after  the 
publication  of  the  Advancement  of  Learning,  which 
involved  it,  he  accompanied  a  letter  with  a  copy  of  the 
work  to  his  literary  friend,  Toby  Mathews,  saying  :  "  I 
have  now  at  last  taught  that  child  to  go,  at  the  swaddling 
whereof  you  were."  '  (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  197.) 

In  some  editions  of  the  play  this  word  is  improperly 
changed  to  "swathing-clouts." 

In  1585,  the  year  in  which  the  play  is  by  some  sup- 
posed to  have  been  written.  Bacon  sketched  or  outlined 
this  babe — his  philosophy — under  the  title,  The  Noblest 
Birth  of  Time.  And  in  a  letter  in  later  years  concerning 
his  writings  he  refers  to  it  as  a  juvenile  work,  and  as  hav- 
ing the  mentioned  pompous  title.   (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  64.) 

In  a  letter  in  1609  to  Bishop  Andrews,  the  Bishop  of 
Winchester,  and  whom  he  called  his  "  inquisitor,"  and 
which  he  accompanied  with  his  treatise  entitled  Visa  et 
cogitata,  he  refers  to  science  as  the  child  of  philosophy, 
and  says  : 

"  My  very  good  Lord,  now  your  Lordship  hath  been 
so  long  in  the  church  and  in  the  palace  disputing  between 
kings  and  popes,  methinks  you  should  take  pleasure  to 
look  into  the  field, ^  and  refresh  your  mind  with  some 
matter  of  philosophy,  though  that  science  be  now  through 

'  As  to  this  swaddling  of  infancy  Bacon  again  says  :  "  For  it  is 
most  true  tliat  a  discourser  of  Italy  saith  :  '  There  was  never  state  so 
well  swaddled  in  the  infancy  as  the  Roman  was,  by  the  virtue  of  their 
first  kings.'  "  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  360.) 

^  Promus,   675.   When   thrift    is  in    the  field    he  is   in  the   town. 


92  INTRODUCTION". 

age,  waxed  a  child  again,'  and  left  to  boys  and  young  men  ; 
and  because  you  were  wont  to  make  me  believe  you  took 
liking  to  my  writings,  I  send  you  some  of  this  yacation 
fruit,  and  tlius  much  more  of  my  mind  and  purpose.  I 
hasten  not  to  publish  ;  perishing  I  would  prevent.  And 
I  am  forced  to  respect  as  well  my  times  as  the  matter. 
For  with  me  it  is  thus,  and  I  think  with  all  men  in  my 
case,*  if  I  bind  myself  to  an  argument,  it  loadeth  my 
mind  ;  but  if  I  rid  my  mind  of  the  present  cogitation,  it 
is  rather  a  recreation.  This  hath  put  me  into  these  mis- 
cellanies,^ which  I  propose  to  suppress,  if  God  give  me 
leave  to  write  a  just  and  perfect  volume  of  philosophy, 
which  I  go  on  with,  though  slowly.  I  send  not  your 
Lordship  too  much,  lest  it  may  glut  you.  Now  let  me  tell 
you  what  my  desire  is.  If  your  Lordship  be  so  good  now 
as  when  you  were  the  good  Dean  of  Westminster,  my  re- 
quest to  you  is,  that  not  by  pricks,*  but  by  notes,  yon 
would  mark  unto   me   whatsoever  shall  seem  unto  you 

The  words  "field  "  and  "  town"  are  important  in  the  unmasking. 
Note  them  in  the  pla3's  and  in  Tlie  Pilgrim's  Progress.  They  will 
later  be  called  under  review. 

'  "  Ham.  Hark  you,  Guildenstern  ;  and  you  too  ; — at  each  ear  a 
hearer  :  that  great  baby,  you  see  there,  is  not  yet  out  of  his  swad- 
dling clouts. 

"  Ros.  Haply,  he's  the  second  time  come  to  them  ;  for,  they  say, 
an  old  man  is  twice  a  child." 

'^  Note  throughout  a  constant  and  distinctive  use  of  the  word  "  case," 
and  in  exclusion  to  like  or  synonymous  words.  In  The  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  p.  275,  we  have  :  "  Alas  to  be  in  my  case,  who  that  so  was 
couid  but  have  done  so  ?"  And  again,  p.  345,  we  have  :  "  But  when 
he  was  come  at  the  river  where  wus  no  bridge,  there  again  he  was  in 
a  heavy  case."  In  "As  You  Like  It,"  Act  v.,  sc.  4,  p.  255,  we 
have  :  "  What  a  case  am  I  in,  then,  that  am  neither  a  good  epilogue 
nor  cannot  insinuate  with  you  in  the  behalf  of  a  good  play  ?" 

^  One  branch  of  the  Harleian  collection  was  distinguished  as  the 
"  Harleian  Miscellanies." 

•*  This  word  "  pricks"  we  find  even  in  the  youthful  treatise  the 
Anatomy  of  Abuses,  where,  at  p.  201,  we  have  :  "  Plutarch  coni- 
plaineth  of  music,  and  saith  that  it  doth  rather  effeminate  the  mind 
as  pricks  into  vice,  than  conduce  to  godliness  as  spurs  unto  virtue." 
Let  the  reader  now  particulaily  note  this  word  as  used  in  the 
Greek  play  Troilus  and  Cressida,  Act  i.,  sc.  3,  p.  404,  and  where 
we  have : 

"  And  in  such  indexes,  although  small  pricks 
To  their  subsequent  volumes,  there  is  seen 
The  baby  figure  of  the  giant  mass 
Of  things  to  come  at  large." 


INTRODUCTION.  93 

either  not  current  in  the  style,  or  harsh  to  credit  and  opin- 
ion, or  inconvenient  for  the  jjerson  of  the  writer  ;  for  no 
■man  can  be  judge  and  party,  and  when  our  minds  judge 
by  reflection'  on  ourselves  they  are  more  subject  to  error. 
And  though  for  the  matter  itself  my  judgment  be  in  some 
things  fixed,  and  not  accessible  by  any  man's  judgment 
that  goeth  not  my  way,  yet  even  in  those  things  the  ad- 
monition of  a  friend  may  make  me  express  myself  diversely. 
I  would  have  come  to  your  Lordship  but  that  I  am  hasten- 
ing to  my  house  in  the  country.  And  so  I  commend  your 
Lordship  to  God's  goodness."     (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  30.) 

Bacon's  Natural  History,  as  we  have  seen,  was  to  be  the 
nurse,  the  bosom  to  philosophy,  and  here  Ave  have  the  babe. 

In  the  play  the  babe  is  not  yet  out  of  these  miscellanies, 
its  swaddling  clouts  ;  while  in  the  letter  to  Mathews  in 
1605  it  has  been  taught  to  go.  Concerning  this  swaddling 
of  truth,  the  author  of  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  in  his 
apology  for  his  book,  says  : 

"  Come,  truth,  although  in  swaddling  clothes  I  find, 
Informs  the  judgment,  rectifies  the  mind  ; 
Pleases  the  understanding,  makes  the  will 
Submit  :  the  memory  too  it  doth  till 
With  what  doth  our  imagination  please  ; 
Likewise  it  tends  our  troubles  to  appease." 

In  vol.  i.,  p.  31,  of  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  we 
have  :  "  They  play  with  babies  of  clouts  and  such  toys, 
we  with  greater  babies."  * 

'  "  And,  since  you  know  you  cannot  see  yourself 
So  well  as  by  reflection,  I,  your  glass, 
Will  modestly  discover  to  yourself 
That  of  yourself  which  you  yet  know  not  of." 

—Julius  C'sesar,  Act  i.,  sc.  2,  p.  335. 

^  Promus,  356.  (Like  as  children  do  with  their  babies  [dolls]  ; 
when  they  have  played  enough  with  them,  they  take  sport  to  undo 
them.)  Bacon  in  1615,  concerning  Salisbury's  great  scheme  for 
revenue,  hereafter  to  be  considered,  among  other  things  says  :  "  And 
afterward  either  out  of  variety,  or  having  met  with  somewhat  that 
he  looked  not  for,  or  otherwise  having  made  use  of  the  opinion,  in 
the  end  undid  his  baby  that  he  had  made — then  grew  the  change." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  v.,  p.  179.)  We  would  have  the  reader  par- 
ticularly note  the  words  "undo"  and  "undone"  as  spread  in  the 
narrational  portions  of  this  literature,  as  well  as  in  the  plays. 
It  will  be  found  many  times  used  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  and 
on  p.  274  we  have  :  "I  had  much  ado  to  forl)ear  crying  out.  Un- 
done." 


94  INTRODUCTION. 

But  again,  one  of  the  chief  ends  in  view,  we  think,  in 
this  typical  play  may  be  found  in  Horatio's  speech  in 
Act  i.,  sc.  1,  p.  202,  concerning  the  state  of  Rome  :  "  A 
little  ere  the  mightiest  Julius  fell,". and  which  state  was 
"  prologue  to  the  omen  coming  on." 

Bacon  early,  as  at  the  close  of  his  work,  had  much  fear 
for  the  Reformed  faith,  as  we  shall  see  ;  and  not  merely 
from  Rome,  but  from  influences  witli  which  pagan  forms 
had  already  tainted  it.  After  the  parties  in  the  play  were 
sworn  that  they  would  in  no  way  disclose  Hamlet  or  his 
methods,  he  then  says  to  them  :  "  The  times  are  out  of 
joint ;  0  cursed  spite  !  that  ever  I  was  born  to  set  it 
right." 

Julius  here  referred  to  was  Pope  of  Rome  from  337  to  352, 
and  during  the  same  period  Julian  the  Apostate  was  em- 
peror, who,  as  against  the  Christian  faith,  became  a  con- 
vert to  paganism  through  an  acquired  love  for  the  Greek 
forms  and  philosophy,  and  which  much  tainted  the  early 
Church.  Bacon  set  himself  not  merely  to  stay,  but  to 
undo  some  of  those  influences,  and  which  he  doubtless 
thought  his  work  would  accomplish,  as  in  due  time  will, 
we  think,  appear.  Note  the  reference  in  the  play  to 
Wittenberg,  the  door,  as  it  were,  of  the  Reformation  ;  and 
where  Horatio  and  Marcellus  as  well  as  Hamlet  are  repre- 
sented as  students  or  school-fellosvs.'  By  his  philosophy, 
however,  there  was  now  to  be  a  course  new  mapped.  One 
slow,  silent,  deep  laid,  and  which  was  to  be  telling  only 
in  its  outcome  or  issues. 

Though  space  will  not  permit  an  elaboration  here  of 
this  particular  feature  of  the  play,  we  may  still  indicate 
thus  much. 

In  no  country  of  Europe  was  the  Reformed  faith  intro- 
duced with  more  ease  and  less  blood  than  in  Denmark. 
In  1018  Canute  the  Great  became  King  of  England  as  well 
as  Denmark,  and  he  resided  generally  in  England.  The 
Danish  dynasty  came  to  a  close  in  England,  liowevei',  in 
1042  for  want  of  male  heirs.  In  1219  the  Danish  King 
Valdemar  the  Second  set  out  upon  a  vast  crusade  against 
the  pagans  in  Esthonia,  and  the  whole  was  forcibly  over- 
run  and   the    inhabitants    converted.      By    earlier    con- 

'  Later  we  shall  call  the  word  "  fellows"  under  review,  and  the 
word  "  scliool -fellow"  will  be  found  used  in  these  writings  wher- 
ever occasion  presents. 


INTRODUCTION.  95 

quests  his  authority  had  hecome  recognized  over  a  large 
portion  of  Northern  Germany.  Bacon  had  ever  his  fore- 
finger upon  the  world's  pulse  ecclesiastic,  and  was  watch- 
ful in  this  regard  to  the  entire  governmental  influences  of 
the  world,  and  with  its  globe,  as  it  were,  beneath  his  eye. 
Denmark  or  the  Danish  crown  had  at  this  time  control  of 
both  sides  of  tlie  entrance  to  the  Baltic  Sea,  and  the  sound 
was  regarded  as  its  own,  and  the  world's  mercantile  vessels 
were  required  to  pay  tribute  or  toll  in  their  passage.  At 
the  writing  of  this  play  there  were  influences  both  within 
and  without  England  which  Bacon  much  feared  should 
Denmark,  with  its  mentioned  natural  advantages,  fall  under 
control  of  the  Catholic  powers  of  Europe.  Jn  the  north 
of  England  most  of  the  people  at  this  time,  as  well  as  the 
lords,  longed  to  see  the  restoration  of  the  Eoman  faith 
and  the  Catholic  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  claimed,  in  Eliza- 
beth's stead,  to  be  the  rightful  heir  to  the  English  throne. 
Therefore,  when  Hamlet  was  mad,  he  was  "  mad  north- 
northwest." 

These  features,  however,  concern  but  the  outer  circle  of 
this  piece  of  foreshadowed  work.  More  properly  we  may 
say,  perhaps,  that  the  state  of  man  by  nature  is  the  outer 
circle,  and  that  these  features  fall   next  within  it. 

The  value  set  by  Bacon  upon  his  babe,  his  offspring  of 
science,  may  in  a  measure  be  seen  in  his  dedicatory  letter 
to  King  James,  of  the  Novum  Organum,  in  1620  (Works, 
vol.  iii.,  p.  333),  and  which  opens  in  these  words  : 

"  Your  Majesty  will,  perhaps,  accuse  me  of  theft,  in 
that  I  have  stolen'  from  your  employments  time  sufficient 
for  this  work.  I  have  no  reply,  for  there  can  be  no  restitu- 
tion of  time,  unless,  perhaps,  that  which  has  been  with- 
drawn from  your  affairs  might  be  set  down  as  devoted  to 
the  perjietuating  of  your  name  and  to  the  honour  of  your 
age  were  what  I  now  offer  of  any  value.  It  is  at  least 
new,  even  in  its  very  nature,  but  copied  from  a  very  an- 
cient pattern,  no  other  than  the  world  itself,  and  the 
nature  of  things,  and  of  the  mind.  I  myself  (ingeniously 
to  confess  the  truth)  am  wont  to  value  this  work  rather  as 
the  offspring  of  time  than  of  wit ;  for  the  only  wonderful 

'  This  use  of  the  word  "  stolen"  as  applied  to  time  may  be  found 
in  many  of  these  writings.  In  Measure  for  Measure,  Act  iii.,  so.  1, 
p.  74,  we  have  :  "  I  have  no  superfluous  leisure  ;  my  stay  must  be 
stolen  out  of  other  affairs  ;  but  I  will  attend  you  a  while." 


96  INTRODUCTION. 

circumstance  in  it  is,  that  the  first  conception  of  the  mat- 
ter, and  so  deep  suspicions  of  prevalent  notions  should 
ever  have  entered  into  any  person's  mind  ;  the  conse- 
quences follow.  But,  doubtless,  there  is  naturally  a  chance 
(as  we  call  it),  and  something,  as  it  were,  accidental  in 
man's  thoughts,  no  less  than  in  his  actions  and  words. 
I  would  have  this  chance,  however  (of  which  I  am  speak- 
ing), to  be  so  understood  that  if  there  be  any  merit  in 
what  1  offer,  it  should  be  attributed  to  the  immeasurable 
mercy  and  bounty  of  God  and  to  the  felicity'  of  this  your 
age  ;  to  which  felicity  T  have  devoted  myself  whilst  living 
with  the  sincerest  zeal,  and  I  shall,  perhaps,  before  my 
death  have  rendered  the  age  a  light  unto  posterity,  by 
kindling  this  new  torch  amid  the  darkness  of  philosoj)hy. " 

And  upon  sending  a  copy  of  the  work  to  his  friend 
Mathew  (p.  71,  same  volume),  he  says  : 

"  And  I  must  confess  my  desire  to  be,  that  my  writings 
should  not  court  the  present  time,  or  some  few  places  in 
such  sorts  as  might  make  them  either  less  general  to  per- 
sons or  less  permanent  in  future  ages.  As  to  the  Instau- 
ration,  your  so  full  approbation  thereof  I  read  with  much 
comfort,  by  how  much  more  my  heart  is  upon  it,  and 
by  how  much  less  I  expected  consent  and  concurrence  in 
matters  so  obscure.  Of  this  I  can  assure  you,  that  though 
many  things  of  great  hope  decay  with  youth  (and  multi- 
tude of  civil  business  is  wont  to  diminish  the  price  though 
not  the  delight  of  contemplation),  yet  the  proceeding  in 
that  work  doth  gain  with  me  upon  my  affection  and  de- 
sire both  by  years  and  business.  And,  therefore,  I  hope 
even  by  this  that  it  is  well  pleasing  to  God,  from  whom 
and  to  whom  all  good  mioves.  To  him  I  most  heartily 
commend  you." 

And  in  the  following  so  called  Shakespeare  Sonnet  (59), 
and  to  which  we  invite  careful  thought,  a  comparison  is  in- 
ferred between  his  own  philosophy  and  that  then  extant, 
or  that  of  the  Greeks  ;  and  wherein  he  breathes  the  wish, 
that  when  "  five  hundred  courses  of  the  sun"  shall  have 
rolled  away  he  might  be  then  present  to  see  what  the  world 
would  say  of  his  work,  his  child,  his  philosophy.     He  says  : 

'  In  the  A.  D.  B.  Mask  we,  p.  37,  have  :  "  Obedience  is  the 
mother  of  felicity."  Let  this  word  be  noted  tliroughout,  as  also  the 
here  used  words  "  kindle"  and  "  torch."  And  note  in  all  of  these 
writings  this  ever-fixed  eye  upon  posterity. 


INTRODUCTION.  97 

"  If  there  be  nothing  new,  but  that  which  is 
Hath  been  before,  how  are  our  brains  beguil'd, 
Which,  labouring  for  invention,  bear  amiss 
Tlie  second  burtlien  of  a  former  child  ?' 
O  !  that  record  could  with  a  backward  look, 
Even  of  live  hundred  courses  of  the  sun. 
Show  me  your  image  in  some  antique  book. 
Since  mind  at  first  in  character  was  done  ! 
That  I  might  see  what  the  old  world  could  say 
To  this  composed  wonder  of  your  frame  ; 
Whether  we're  mended,  or  where  better  they, 
Or  whether  revolution  be  the  same. 
O  !  sure  I  am,'  the  wits  of  former  days 
To  subjects  worse  have  given  admiring  praise." 

Baccm,  as  to  tliese  five  hundred  years,  says  :  "All  the 
philosophy  of  nature  which  is  now  received  is  either  the 
philosophy  of  the  Grecians  or  that  other  of  the  alchemists. 
That  of  the  Greeks  hath  the  foundations  in  words,  in 
ostentation,  in  confutation,  in  sects,  in  schools,  in  dis- 
putations. The  Grecians  were,  as  one  of  themselves  saith, 
'you  Grecians,  ever  children.'  They  knew  little  an- 
tiquity ;  they  knew,  except  fables,  not  much  above  five 
hundred  years  before  tliemselves.  They  knew  but  a  small 
portion  of  the  world.     That  of  the  alchemists  hath  the 

'  Bacon  says  :  "  But  things  too  ancient  wax  children  with  us 
again."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  66.) 

^  As  to  the  expression  "  sure  I  am"  Bacon  says  :  "  But  sure  I  am 
the  argument  is  good,  if  it  had  lighted  upon  a  good  author."  (Ba- 
con's Letters,  vol.  iii.,  p.  254.)  While  king's  attorney  in  1616,  he 
writes  thus  to  Buckingham  :  "  The  times  I  submit  to  you,  who  know 
them  best  ;  but  sui'e  I  am,  there  were  never  times  which  did  more 
require  a  King's  attorney  to  be  well  armed,  and  (as  I  once  said  to  you) 
to  wear  a  gauntlet  and  not  a  glove."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  v.,  p.  260.) 
And  in  vol.  ii.  of  said  Letters,  p.  86,  we  have  :  "  Sure  I  am  that 
the  treasure  that  cometh  from  you  to  her  Majesty  is  but  as  a  vapour 
which  riseth  from  the  earth  and  gathereth  into  a  cloud,  and  stayeth 
not  there  long  but  upon  the  same  earth  it  falleth  again  ;  and  what 
if  some  drops  of  this  do  fall  upon  France  or  Flanders  ?"  This 
expression  was  quite  frequent  with  Bacon.  And  in  the  Anatomy 
of  Abuses,  p.  74,  we  have  :  "  But,  howsoever  it  falleth  out,  sure  I 
am  they  are  ensigns  of  pride,  allurements  to  sin,  and  provocations 
to  vice."     In  Hamlet,  Act  ii.,  sc.  2,  p.  246,  the  Queen  says  : 

"  Queen.  Good  gentlemen,  he  hath  much  talk'd  of  you  ; 
And,  sure  I  am,  two  men  there  are  not  living,  to  whom  he  more 
adheres. ' ' 

Very  much  more  might  be  introduced  upon  all  of  these  points  did 
space  permit.  And  many  points  might  be  made  which  are  not 
made  for  like  reason. 

4 


98  INTRODUCTION. 

foundation  in  imposture,  in  auricular  traditions  and  ob- 
scurity. It  was  catching  hold  of  religion,  but  the  prin- 
ciple of  it  is  Populu  vult  decipi.  So  that  I  know  no  great 
difference  between  these  great  philosophies,  but  that  the 
one  is  a  loud  crying  folly,  and  the  other  is  a  whispering 
folly."  See  likewise  Aphs.  78,  122,  125,  Book  1  of  the 
Novum  Organum. 

In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Mathew,  in  1609,  he  says  :  "  Nay  it 
doth  more  fully  lay  open  that  the  question  between  me 
and  the  ancients  is  not  the  virtue  of  the  race,  but  the 
rightness  of  the  way." 

As  to  the  words  "  Since  mind  at  first  in  character  was 
done,"  see  Bacon's  thoughts,  p.  73  of  this  work. 

The  word  "old"  in  this  sonnet  in  the  expression 
"  What  the  old  world  would  say"  is  used  in  its  distinctive 
and  Baconian  sense,  and  explained  by  Bacon  in  Aph.  84, 
Book  1  of  the  Novum  Organum  thus  :  "  The  opinion 
which  men  cherish  of  antiquity  is  altogether  idle,  and 
scarcely  accords  with  the  term.  For  the  old  age  and  in- 
creasing years  of  the  world  should  in  reality  be  considered 
as  antiquity,  and  that  is  rather  the  character  of  our  own 
times  than  of  the  less  advanced  age  of  the  world  in  those 
of  the  ancients  ;  for  the  latter  with  respect  to  ourselves 
are  ancient  and  elder,  with  respect  to  the  world  modern 
and  younger.'  And  as  we  expect  a  greater  knowledge  of 
human  affairs  and  more  mature  judgment  from  an  old 
man  than  from  a  youth,  on  account  of  his  experience  and 
the  variety  and  number  of  things  he  has  seen,  heard,  and 
meditated  upon,  so  we  have  reason  to  expect  much  greater 
things  of  our  own  age  (if  it  knew  but  its  strength  and 
would  essay  and  exert  it)  than  from  antiquity,  since  the 
world  has  grown  older  and  its  stock  has  been  increased 
and  accumulated  with  an  infinite  number  of  experiments 
and  observations." 

A¥e  shall  therefore  claim  to  the  reader,  that  this  sonnet 
refers  to  philosophy,  that  it  refers  to  a  distinctive  philoso- 
phy, that  it  refers  to  The  Great  Instauration  ;  and  that 
its  word  "  old  "  is  used  in  this  Baconian  sense,  as  are  also 
the  words  "  antique  book." 

We  have  here  a  wonder  referred  to,  a  composed  wonder, 
"the  composed  wonder  of  your  frame,"  and    that  frame 

^  Promus,  1268.  (Things  old  to  us  were  new  to  men  of  old.) 


INTRODUCTION.  99 

the  frame  of  nature,  or  the  world.  See  Bacon's  letter  to 
King  James,  p.  95. 

Note  the  use  of  the  word  "  frame"  throughout  this  liter- 
ature. Bacon  says  :  "It  is  certain  that  of  all  powers  in 
nature  heat  is  the  chief  both  in  the  frame  of  nature  and 
in  the  works  of  art."  '    (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  33.) 

Already  have  we  seen  that  Lord  Bacon  set  great  value 
upon  his  love,  his  child  of  philosophy,  his  Instauration  ; 
and  so  in  Sonnets  124  and  125  and  pending  the  ruin  of  his 
name,  he  says  : 

"  If  my  dear  love  were  but  the  child  of  state, 
It  might  for  fortune's  bastard  be  unfather'd, 
As  subject  to  time's  love  or  to  time's  hate, 
Weeds  among  vreeds,  or  flowers  with  flowers  gather'd. 
No,  it  was  builded  far  from  accident  ; 
It  suffers  not  in  smiling  pomp,  nor  falls 
Under  the  blow  of  thralled  discontent, 
Whereto  the  inviting  time  our  fashion  calls  : 
It  fears  not  policy,  that  heretic, 
Which  works  on  leases  of  short-number'd  hours  ; 
But  all  alone  stands  hugely  politic. 
That  it  nor  grows  with  heat,  nor  drowns  with  showers. 
To  this  I  witness  call  the  fools  of  time, 
Which  die  for  goodness,  who  have  lived  for  crime." 

"  Were't  aught  to  me  I  bore  the  canopy. 
With  my  extern''^  the  outward  honouring. 
Or  laid  great  basis  for  eternity. 
Which  prove  more  short  tlian  waste  or  ruining  ? 
Have  I  not  seen  dwellers  on  form  and  favour 
Lose  all,  and  more,  by  paying  too  much  rent  ; 
For  compound  sweet  foregoing  simple  savour, 
Pitiful  thrivers  in  their  gazing  spent  ? 
No  ;  let  me  be  obsequious  in  thy  heart. 
And  take  thou  my  oblation,  poor  but  free, 
Which  is  not  mix'd  with  seconds,  knows  no  art, 
But  mutual  render,  only  me  for  thee. 
Hence,  thou  suborn 'd  informer  !  a  true  soul. 
When  most  impeach'd,  stands  least  in  thy  control." 

Note  in  this  last  sonnet  and  for  future  reference  the  words 

1  In  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  Act  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  217,  we  have  : 
"  Chid  I  for  that  at  frugal  nature's  frame  ? 

In  Hamlet,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  295,  we  have  : 

"  Good,  my  lord,  put  your  discourse  into  some  frame,  and  start 
not  so  wildly  from  my  affair." 

"^  See  Bacon's  use  of  this  word  extern,  p.  86. 


100  INTRODUCTION. 

"  I  bore  the  canopy"  and  the  words  "  suborned  informer," 
also  the  word  "  oblation,"  directed  to  the  king. 

In  Sonnet  122  the  words  "  thy  tables  are  within  my 
brain"  refer,  as  we  shall  claim,  to  the  tables  of  the  Instau- 
ration,  to  which  all  else  in  his  system  is  subservient.  He 
says  : 

"  Tliy  gift/  thy  tables,^  are  within  my  brain 

Full  character'd  with  lasting  nnemory, 

Which  shall  above  that  idle  rank  remain 

Beyond  all  date,  even  to  eternity  ; 

Or,  at  the  least,  so  long  as  brain  and  heart 

Have  faculty  by  nature  to  subsist  : 

Till  each  to  raz'd  oblivion  yield  his  part 

Of  thee,  thy  record  never  can  be  miss'd. 

That  poor  retention  could  not  so  much  hold, 

Nor  need  I  tallies,  thy  dear  love  to  score  ; 

Tlierefore  to  give  them  from  me  was  I  bold. 

To  trust  those  tables  that  receive  thee  more  : 

To  keep  an  adjunct  to  remember  thee. 

Were  to  import  forgetfulness  in  me." 

lie  says  in  this  sonnet,  that  until  these  tables,  as  well  as 
his  brain,  have  "  to  raz'd  oblivion"  yielded  their  part,  his 
record  cannot  be  missed. 

If  it  be  asked  why  he  permitted  himself  to  be  submerged 
without  a  defence,  the  ansAver  may  in  part  appear  in  Son- 
net 121,  but  more  fully  when  relation  facts  are  made  to 
appear.     In  this  sonnet  he  says  : 

"  'Tis  better  to  be  vile,  than  vile  esteem'd. 
When  not  to  be  receives  reproach  of  being  ; 
And  the  just  pleasure  lost,  which  is  so  deem'd, 
Not  by  our  feeling,  but  by  others'  seeing  : 

'  Bacon  realized  that  he  had  unusual  gifts,  as  will  later  appear  in  a 
noted  prayer  by  him  at  this  fjeriod. 

■*  In  Hamlet,  Act  i.,  sc.  5,  p.  235,  we  have: 

"  Remember  thee  ? 
Yea,  from  the  tables  of  my  memory 
I'll  wipe  away  all  trivial  fond  records,"  etc. 

Bacon  says  :  "  In  tables,  unless  you  erase  what  has  before  been 
written,  you  can  w^rite  nothing  else.  But  in  the  mind,  on  the  con- 
trary, unless  you  inscribe  something  else,  you  cannot  erase  what  has 
before  been  written."  (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  549.)  And  from  some  private 
memoranda  by  Bacon  we  have  :  "  To  lake  notes  in  Tables  when  I 
attpnd  y"  counsell,  and  sometymes  to  moove  owt  of  a  Memoriall 
hewd  and  seen. "  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iv. ,  p.  93.)  And  see  the  tables 
of  the  Instauration. 


INTRODUCTION.  101 

For  why  should  others'  false  adulterate  eyes 
Give  salutation  to  my  sportive  blood  ? 
Or  on  my  frailties  why  are  frailer  spies. 
Which  in  their  wills  count  bad  what  I  think  good  ? 
No,  I  am  that  I  am  ;  and  they  that  leveP 
At  my  abuses,  reckon  up  their  own  : 
I  may  be  straight,  thougii  they  themselves  be  bevel. 
By  their  rank  thoughts  my  deeds  must  not  be  shown  ; 
Unless  this  general  evil  they  maintain,— 
^.  All  men  are  bad,  and  in  their  badness  reign." 

And  what  ofl&cial  position  did  William  Shakespeare  hold 
to  permit  a  levelling  at  his  abuses  ? 

Btit  Bacon  became  self-condemnatory,  as  may  be  seen 
in  Sonnet  63.     He  says  : 

"  Sin  of  self-love  possesseth  all  mine  eye. 
And  all  my  soul,  and  all  my  every  part  ; 
And  for  this  sin  there  is  no  remedy. 
It  is  so  grounded  inward  in  my  heart. 
Methiuks,  no  face  so  giacious  is  as  mine, 
No  shape  so  true,  no  truth  of  such  account  ; 
And  for  myself  mine  own  worth  do  define, 
As  I  all  other  in  all  worths  surmount.  _ 
But  when  my  glass  shows  me  myself  indeed, 
Bated  and  chapp'd  with  tann'd  antiquity. 
Mine  own  self-love'^  quite  contrary  I  read  ; 
Self  so  self -loving  were  iniquity. 
'Tis  thee  (myself)  that  for  myself  I  praise. 
Painting  my  age  with  beauty  of  thy  days." 

Had  William  Shakespeare  felt  thus  as  to  his  work, 
would  he  have  gone  to  his  grave  as  he  did  in  1616,  without 
the  slightest  preparation  made  to  perpetuate  his  writings  ? 
By  the  words  "thee,"  "  thy,"  and  "  thou"  the  author  of 
the  sonnets  often  alluded  to  himself,  as  may  be  distinctly 
seen  in  this  sonnet,  and  to  which  end  chiefly  we  quote  it. 

Pending  his  troubles,  Bacon  goes  down  to  his  old  home 
at  Gorhambury,  and  there  :  1.  Makes  his  will,  wherein  he 
says:  "For  my  name  and  memory  I  leave  it  to  men's 
charitable  speeches  to  foreign  nations,  and  to  the  next 
ages  ;  and  2.  He  composed  a  notable  prayer,  in  which, 
among  other  things  that  had  been  uppermost  in  his 
thoughts,  says  :  "  I  have  hated  all  cruelty  and  hardness  of 

1  Bacon  says  :  ' '  That  which  I  level  at  is  your  standing  and  great- 
ness, which  nevertheless  I  hold  for  a  main  pillar  for  the  K's  service." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  442.) 

'^  Note  Bacon's  use  of  the  word  "  self-love"  in  his  noted  letter  to 
Lord  Burghley,  p.  24. 


102  INTRODUCTION'. 

heart  ;  I  have  (though  in  a  despised  weed)  procured  the 
good  of  all  men."  '     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  229.) 

In  what,  please,  did  this  "  weed"  consist,  wherein  he  had 
procured  the  good  of  all  men  ?  Was  it  his  mask  or  masks, 
or  was  it  but  his  Shakespeare  cover  or  mask  ?  In  Sonnet 
76  he  of  this  "  weed"  says  : 

"  Why  is  my  verse  so  barren  of  new  pride, 

So  far  from  variation  or  quick  change  ? 

Why,  with  the  time  do  I  not  glance  aside 

To  new-found  methods  and  to  compounds  strange  ? 

Why  write  I  still  all  one,  ever  the  same, 

And  keep  invention  in  a  noted  weed, 

That  every  word  doth  almost  tell  my  name," 

Showing  their  birth,  and  where  they  did  proceed  ? 

O  !  know,  sweet  love,  I  always  write  of  you. 

And  you  and  love  are  still  my  argument  ; 

So,  all  my  best  is  dressing  old  words  new. 

Spending  again  what  is  already  spent  : 

For  as  the  sun  is  daily  new  and  old, 

So  is  my  love  still  telling  what  is  told." 

Do  the  words  "  though  in  a  despised  weed  "  in  the  men- 
tioned prayer,  and  the  words  "  keep  invention  in  a  noted 
weed  "  in  this  sonnet,  have  any  covert  meaning?  And  are 
they  not  used  in  the  same  covert  sense  in  each  expression  ? 
And  what  occasion  had  William  Shakespeare  to  keep  in- 
vention in  a  noted  weed  ?  Were  not  the  plays  and  sonnets 
put  forth  in  his  name  ? 

But  this  use  of  the  word  "  weed  "  as  a  cover,  was  dis- 
tinctly Baconian.  Keferring  in  his  speech  in  the  Essex 
trial  to  the  flight  of  the  French  king,  caused  by  the 
uprising  of  the  Duke  of  Guise,  he  says  :  "  The  king  was 
forced  to  put  himself  into  a  pilgrim's  weed,^  and  in  that 
disguise  stole  away  to  escape  their  fury."  (Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  ii.,  p.  230.) 

In  his  History  of  Henry  the  Seventh  he  says  :  "  This 
fellow,  when  Perkin  took  sanctuary,  chose  rather  to  take 
a  holy  habit  than  a  holy  place,  and  clad  himself  like  a 

'  This  prayer  will  be  found  in  full  later  in  the  work. 

^  How  true  this  statement  !  We  may  almost  see  his  physiognomy 
in  some  of  them. 

2  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  372,  we  have  :  "  Then  said  Mr. 
Darenotlie,  'Tis  true  ;  tliey  have  neither  the  pilgrim's  weed  nor  the 
pilgrim's  courage  ;  they  go  not  uprightly,  but  all  awry  with  their 
feet  ;  one  shoe  goeth  inward,  another  outward  ;  and  their  hosen  are 
out  behind  :  here  a  rag,  and  there  a  rent,  to  the  disparagement  of 
their  Lord." 


INTRODUCTION".  103 

hermit,  and  in  that  weed  wandered  about  the  country  till 
he  was  discovered  and  taken."     (Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  367.) 

And  concerning  apparel  and  the  philosopher's  weed,  we 
in  the  youthful  treatise,  the  Anatomy  of  Abuses,  p.  33, 

have  :  •       .i    i. 

"  Diogenes  so  much  contemned  '  sumptuous  attire,  that 
he  chose  rather  to  dwell  in  wilderness  among  brute  beasts 
all  his  life  long,  than  in  the  pompous  courts  of  mighty 
kings  one  day  to  be  cormorant  ;  for  he  thought  if  he  had 
the  ornaments  of  the  mind,  that  he  was  then  fair  enough, 
and  fine  enough  also,  not  needing  any  more.     A  certain 
other  philosopher  addressed  himself  towards  a  king's  court 
in  his  philosopher's  attire,  that  is,  in  mean,  base,  and  poor 
array  ;  but  so  soon  as  the  officers  espied  him,  they  cried, 
Away  with  that  rogue  ;  what  doth  he  so  nigh  the  king's 
majesty's  court?     The  poor  philosopher,  seeing  it  lighten 
so  fast,  retired  back,  for  fear  of  their  thunderclaps,  and 
repairing  home,   apparelled   himself   in    rich    attire,  and 
came  again  marching  towards  the  court ;  he  was  no  sooner 
in  sight  but  every  one  received  him  plausibly,  and  with 
great  submission  and  reverence.     When  he  came  in  pres- 
ence of  the  king  and  other  mighty  potentates,  he,  kneeling 
down,  ceased  not'  to  kiss  his  garments.     The  king  and 
nobles  marveling  not  a  little  thereat,  asked  him  wherefore 
he  did  so  ?  who  answered,  0  noble  king,  it  is  no  marvel, ' 
for  that  which  my  virtue  and  knowledge  could  not  do,  my 
apparel    hath   brought   to   pass  ;    for   I   coming    to    thy 
gates  in  my  philosopher's  weed,  was  repelled,  but  having 

1  Note  throughout  these  writings  this  oft-used  word  "  contemn." 
'  It  seems  as  though  one  might  almost  prove  these  writings  by  the 
unusual  placing  of  this  word  "not."      Notice  it  throughout,  and 
particularly  in  the  plays. 

Promus,  540.  {Take  not  up  what  thou  layedst  not  down.  See 
Luke  xix.  21.)  Promus,  557.  {Hills  meet  not.)  Promus,  649.  It 
may  rhyme,  but  it  accords  not.  Promus,  1128.  He  that  outleaps 
his  strength  standeth  not.  Bacon  says  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Mathew  in 
1609  :  "  I  have  sent  you  some  copies  of  my  book  of  the  Advancement, 
which  you  desired  ;  and  a  little  work  of  my  recreation,  which  you 
desired  not.  My  Instau  ration  I  reserve  for  your  conference  ;  it 
sleeps  not."  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  276,  we  have  :  "  Then, 
said  Mercy,  I  confess  my  ignorance  ;  I  spake  what  I  understood  not ; 
I  acknowledge  that  thou  doest  all  things  well."  In  Much  Ado 
About  Nothing,  Act  v.,  sc.  2,  p.  241,  we  have  :  "And  yours  as  blunt 
as  the  fencer's  foils,  which  hit,  but  hurt  not." 

''Note  the  use  of  the  word  "marvel"  in  every  phase  of  these 
writings. 


1U4  INTRODUCTION. 

put  upon  me  this  rich  attire,  I  was  brought  to  thy  pres- 
ence with  as  great  veneration  and  worship  as  could  be." 

Referring,  subsequent  to  his  troubles,  to  efforts  made  to 
submerge  his  great  life  work  by  the  ruin  of  his  name,  here- 
after to  be  considered,  he  in  Sonnet  107  alludes  to  him- 
self as  the  "  mortal  moon,"  and  hence  the  first  part  of 
our  title  to  this  work  ;  and  declares  that  his  thought  shall 
at  least  live  in  these  masked  lines,  and  thence  his  monu- 
ment, though  death  may  "  insult  o'er  dull  and  speechless 
tribes" — that  is,  tribes  througli  dullness  in  not  discerning 
the  true  facts,  and  hence  "  speechless"  as  to  the  honor 
due  his  name.     He  says  : 

"  Not  mine  own  fears,  nor  the  prophetic  soul 
Of  the  wide  world,  dreaming  on  things  to  come, 
Can  j'et  the  lease  of  my  true  love  control, 
Suppos'd  as  forfeit  to  a  conflu'd  doom. 
The  mortal  moon  hath  her  eclipse  endur'd. 
And  the  sad  augurs  mock  their  own  presage  ; 
Incertaiuties  now  crown  themselves  assur'd. 
And  peace  proclaims  olives  of  endless  age. 
Now  with  the  drops  of  this  most  balmy  time 
My  love  looks  fresh,  and  death  to  me  subscribes  ; 
Since,  spite  of  him,  I'll  live  in  this  poor  rhyme. 
While  he  insults  o'er'  dull  and  speechless  tribes  ; 
And  thou  in  this  shalt  find  thy  monument. 
When  tyrants'  crests  and  tombs  of  brass  are  spent." 

And  see  Sonnet  19.  To  what  circumstances  in  the  life 
of  William  Shui<espeare  can  the  foregoing  sonnet  be  said 
to  allude  ?    In  the  brief  sketch  of  Lord  Bacon's  life  by  his 

'  In  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  vol.  ii.,  p.  325,  it  is  said  that 
"love  triumphs,  contemns,  insults  over  death  itself."  Bacon,  in 
speaking  of  tlie  heavens,  makes  mention  of  "  the  violence  and  in- 
sult of  a  contrary  body."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  477.)  In  his 
expostulatory  letter  to  Coke  he  says  :  "  As  in  your  pleadings  you 
were  wont  to  insult  over  misery,  and  to  inveigh  bitterly  at  the 
persons,  which  bred  3'ou  many  enemies,  whose  poison  yet  swell- 
eth  and  the  effects  now  appear,  so  are  you  still  wont  to  be  a  little 
careless  in  this  point,  to  praise  or  disgrace  upon  slight  grounds,  and 
that  sometimes  untruly  ;  so  that  your  reproofs  or  commendations 
are  for  the  most  part  neglected  and  contemned  ;  when  the  censure 
of  a  judge,  coming  slow  and  sure,  should  be  a  brand  to  the  guilty 
and  a  crown  to  the  virtuous."  (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  486.)  In  Addison, 
vol.  iii.,  p.  27,  we  have  :  "  There  are  many  who  take  a  kind  of 
barbHrous  pleasure  in  the  jealousy  of  those  who  love  them,  that 
insult  over  an  aching  heart,  and  triumph  in  their  charms  which  are 
able  to  excite  so  much  uneasiness. "  Tliis  expression  "  insult  over"  is 
also  used  by  Defoe.     See  note  2,  p.  50. 


INTRODUCTION".  105 

chaplain,  Dr.  Rawley,  though  evidently  composed  chiefly 
by  Bacon  himself,  we  have  :  "  It  may  seem  the  moon  had 
some  principal  place  in  the  figure  of  his  nativity  ;  for  the 
moon  was  never  in  her  passion,  or  eclipsed,  but  he  was 
surprised  with  a  sudden  fit  of  fainting  ;  and  that  though 
he  observed  not  nor  took  any  previous  knowledge  of  the 
eclipse  thereof  ;  and  as  soon  as  the  eclipse  ceased,  he  was 
restored  to  his  former  strength  again."  (Phil.  Works, 
vol.  i.,  p.  17.)  Later  we  may  have  occasion  to  refer  to 
the  cloaked  arrangement  of  the  sonnets. 

While  in  Sonnet  123  he  says  the  records  do  lie,  he  still 
defers  them,  thus  : 

"  No  !  Time,  thou  shalt  not  boast  that  I  do  change  : 
Thy  pyramids,  built  up  witla  newer  might, 
To  me  are  nothing  novel,  nothing  strange  ; 
They  are  but.  dressings  of  a  former  sight. 
Our  dates  are  brief,  and  therefore  we  admire 
What  thou  dost  foist  upon  us  that  is  old, 
And  rather  make  them  born  to  our  desire, 
Than  think  that  we  before  have  heard  them  told. 
Thy  registers  and  thee  I  both  defy. 
Not  wondering  at  the  present  nor  the  past ; 
For  thy  records  and  what  we  see  do  lie,' 
Made  more  or  less  by  thy  continual  haste  ;* 
This  I  do  vow,  and  this  shall  ever  be, — 
I  will  be  true,  despite  thy  scythe  and  thee." 

And  see  Sonnet  119,  p.  28  of  this  work. 

Bacon  sought  for  iiimself,  for  his  work,  for  his  love, 
protection  from  the  injuries  of  time  ;  or,  as  stated  in  Sonnet 
63,  from  "  confottnding  age's  cruel  knife."     He  says  : 

"  Against  my  love  shall  be,  as  I  am  now. 
With  time's  injurious  baud  crush'd  and  o'erworn  ; 
Wlien  hours  have  drain'd  his  blood  and  fill'd  his  brow 
With  lines  and  wrinkles  ;  when  his  youthful  morn 
Hath  travell'd  on  to  age's  steepy  night  ; 
And  all  those  beauties  whereof  now  he's  king, 
Are  vanishing  or  vanish'd  out  of  sight, 
Stealing  away  the  treasure  of  his  spring  : — 
For  such  a  time  do  I  now  fortify 
Against  confounding  age's  cruel  knife, 

'  And  in  Sonnet  65  he  says  : 

"  O  fearful  meditation  !  where,  alack  ! 
Shall  time's  best  jewel  from  time's  chest  lie  hid  ?" 

'  We  find  Bacon  speaking  of  his  "  unhappy  slowness"  and  of  his 
"  breaking  the  order  of  lime,"  etc. 


106  INTRODUCTION. 

That  he  shall  never  cut  from  memory 
My  sweet  love's  beauty,  though  my  lover's  life  : 
His  beauty  shall  in  these  black  lines  be  seen  ; 
And  they  shall  live,  and  he  in  them  still  green."' 

Bacon  in  his  article  entitled  Of  the  Interpretation  of 
Nature  (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  550),  says  :  "  And  from  the 
injuries  of  time"  I  am  almost  secure  ;  but  for  the  injuries 
of  men  I  am  not  concerned."  And  how  was  he  secure? 
Had  he  made  provisions  in  this  direction  ? 

In  a  letter  to  his  friend  Mathew,  following  his  troubles, 
he  says  :  "It  is  true  my  labours  are  now  more  set  to  have 
those  works  which  I  have  formerly  published,  as  that  of 
Advancement  of  Learning,  that  of  Ilenry  VIL,  that  of 
the  Essays,  being  retractate  and  made  more  perfect,  well 
translated  into  Latin  by  the  help  of  some  good  pens,  which 
forsake  me  not.  For  these  modern  languages  will,  at  one 
time  or  other,  play  the  bankruptcy  with  books  ;  and  since 
I  have  lost  much  time  with  this  age,  I  would  be  glad,  as 
God  shall  give  me  leave,'  to  recover  it  with  posterity." 

'  And  see  Sonnets  55  and  64.  Bacon  says  :  "  The  monuments  of 
wit  survive  the  monuments  of  power  :  the  verses  of  a  poet  endure 
without  a  syllable  lost,  while  states  and  empires  pass  many  periods." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p.  379.) 

'  And  in  Addison,  vol.  vi.,  p.  684,  we  have  : 

"  Can  neither  injuries  of  time,  or  age. 
Damp  thy  poetic  heat,  or  quench  thy  rage  ? 
Not  so  thy  Ovid  in  his  exile  wrote. 
Grief  chill'd  his  breast,  and  check'd  Ms  rising  thought  ; 
Pensive  and  sad,  his  drooping  muse  betrays 
The  Roman  genius  in  its  last  decays." 

^  We  would  here  have  the  reader  particularly  note  Bacon's  siiave 
and  oft-used  expression  "give  me  leave"  and  changes  rung  upon 
it,  as  "  he  gave  himself  leave,"  etc.  Note  it  everywhere  in  this  lit- 
erature, and  particularly  in  the  plays.  We  even  find  it  several  times 
used  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress.  At  p.  311  of  that  work  we  have  : 
"  For  you  must  give  me  leave  to  tell  you  that  I  believe  it  was  a  good 
dream  ;  and  that  as  you  have  begun  to  find  the  first  part  true,  so 
you  shall  find  the  second  at  last."  In  the  Winter's  Tale,  Act  v.,  sc. 
3,  p.  136,  we  have  : 

"  Per.  And  give  me  leave. 

And  do  not  say  'tis  superstition,  that 
I  kneel,  and  then  implore  her  blessing." 

In  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  202,  we  have:  "The  limits  of  my  paper 
will  not  give  me  leave  to  be  particular  in  instances  of  this  kind  ;  the 
reader  will  easily  rtmark  them  in  his  ptrusal  of  the  poem." 


INTRODUCTION. 


10^ 


And  lie  ends  the  letter  thus  :  ^' For  the  great  business, 
God  conduct  it  well.  Mine  own  fortune  hath  taught  me 
expectation."  (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  151.)  Let  these  sonnets 
be  viewed,  please,  in  the  light  of  Bacon's  thoughts  touching 
the  Handing  on  of  the  Lamp  to  Posterity. 

To  Gondomar,  subsequent  to  his  fall  and  on  June  btn, 
1621  (Works,  vol  iii.,  p.  216),  Bacon  writes  :  "  Now  that 
at  once  my  age,  my  fortunes,  and  my  genius,  to  which 
I  have  hitherto  done  but  scarcely  justice,  call  me  trom  the 
stage  of  life,  I  shall  devote  myself  to  letters,  instruct  the 
actSrs  on  it,  and  serve  posterity. '  In  such  a  course  I  shall, 
perhaps,  find  honour.  And  I  shall  thus  pass  my  life  as 
within  the  verge  of  a  better. "  In  this  connection,  please 
see  Sonnets  100,  101,  and  the  close  of  ch.  3,  Book  b  o£ 
the  De  Augmentis.  . 

Bacon's  intention,  early  formed,  of  throwing  or  shaking 
a  spear  at  human  foibles,  combined  with  the  fact  that 
there  was  then  upon  the  English  stage  one  bearing  the 
name  which  these  two  words  "  shake"  and  '  spear  to- 
gether make,  made  it,  doubtless,  the  safest  mask  by  name 
which  he  could  well  have  assumed  and  it  still  be  signifacant 
of  his  purposes  in  it.  And  we  see  no  great  mystery  in 
this,  and  certainly  not  so  great  a  one  as  to  suppose  that 
the  untutored  Shakespeare  should  have  possessed  not 
merely  spontaneous  wealth  of  thought,  but  concededly  the 
widest  and  richest  vocabulary  in  the  language.  Spontane- 
ity, whatever  else  it  may  do,  will  not  yield  this,  i^or  will 
it  yield  that  encyclopedic  range  of  knowledge  spread 
throughout  the  plays  touching  Scripture,  history,  geogra- 
phy,  law,  literature,  art,  science,  and  philosophy,  to  say 
nothing  as  to  that  displayed  concerning  the  customs  of 
courts  of  princes.  . 

Kichard  Grant  White  concerning  Shakespeare  says. 
"  The  entire  range  of  human  knowledge  must  be  laid 
under  contribution  to  illustrate  his  writings."  Are  we, 
then,  to  believe  that  the  plays  are  centred  m  miracle  i 

Bacon  sought  a  mask  :  1.  That  he  might  be  free  m  his 
utterances.  2.  Being  the  son  of  a  noted  English  chancel- 
lor, he  did  not  wish  to  be  known  as  a  playwright.  And  is 
there  any  mystery  here  ? 

'  Did  he  instruct  the  actors  ?  yea,  did  he  prepare  their  parts  ? 
We  shall  see. 


108  INTKODUCTION. 

Eead  the  introduction  to  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy  as 
to  the  reasons  for  assuming  a  mask.  The  spear  here 
thrown,  as  also  in  the  plays,  made  a  mask  necessaiy  to 
him.  On  p.  112  of  that  work  it  is  said  :  "  Object  then 
and  cavil  what  thou  wilt,  I  ward  all  with  Democritus 
buckler  ;  his  medicine  shall  salve'  it  ;  strike  where  thou 
wilt  and  when:  Democritus  dixit;  Democritus  will  an- 
swer all." 

But  the  chief  mystery  seems  to  be  that  Bacon's  own  age 
should  not  generally  have  been  cognizant  of  these  facts, 
and  that  he  should  have  been  willing  to  die  without  dis- 
closing them.  There  were,  indeed,  those  of  his  own  day 
who  believed  him  to  be  the  author  of  the  plays,  but  they 
could  not  prove  it,  and  what  particular  inducement  had 
they  to  try,  more  than  if  the  same  were  to  take  place  as  to 
some  author  of  our  own  day  ?  The  secret  organization  or 
company  through  which  Bacon  operated,  and  through 
which  the  Phoenix  First  Folio  of  1623  was  doubtless  put 
forth  (and  under  Bacon's  own  eye,  as  we  shall  claim),  fell 
probably  within  the  mask,  and  hence  the  ease  of  conceal- 
ment.^ We  may  thus  see  how  so  many  important  changes 
and  additions  to  the  plays  found  in  the  Great  First  Folio, 
and  not  found  in  them  as  originally  written,  as  well  as  im- 
portant matter  stricken  therefrom,  came  about. 

We  will  not  say  that  the  following  lines  from  the  Defoe 
History  of  the  Devil,  p.  502,  point  to  the  mask,  but  will 
submit  them  for  the  reader's  consideration. 

"  In  short,  it  would  make  a  merry  world  among  us  if  we 
could  but  enter  upon  some  proper  method  of  such  dis- 
criminations ;  but  Lawr'd  what  a  hurricane  would  it  raise, 
if  like ,  who  they  say  scourged  the  Devil  so  often  that 

'  Already  have  we  alluded  to  Bacon's  use  of  tlie  words  "  saWe" 
and  "  plaster"  as  figures  of  speech.  He  says  :  "And  it  is  not  your 
interlacing  of  your  '  God  forbid  '  that  will  salve  these  seditious 
speeches  ;  neither  could  it  be  a  foiewarning,  because  the  matter  was 
past  and  not  revokable  ;  but  a  very  stirring  up  and  incensing  of  tlie 
people."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  v.,  p.  145.)  Addi.son,  vol.  v.,  p.  239, 
saj's  :  "  I  am  not  unaware  that  it  will  be  said  that  the  frequent  ex- 
tinctions of  families  will  salve  this  inconvenience,  and  make  room 
for  the  rewarding  of  merit."  In  the  A.  D.  B.  Mask.  p.  21,  we  have 
the  expression  "  sovereign  cure  ;"  and  in  the  Venus  and  Adonis, 
"  Earth's  sovereign  salve  to  do  a  goddess  good." 

*  Even  the  Masonic  institution  has  been  thought  by  some  to  have 
been  co-ordinated  or  revived  by  Bacon  from  out  the  records  of  the 
past. 


INTRODUCTION.  lO'J 

he  durst  not  come  near  him  in  any  shape  whatever,  we 
could  find  some  new  method  out  to  make  the  Devil  un- 
mask ;  like  the  angel  Uriel,  who,  Mr.  Milton  says,  had  an 
enchanted  spear,  with  which  if  he  did  but  touch  the  Devil, 
in  whatever  disguise  he  had  put  on,  it  obliged  him  im- 
mediately to  start  up  and  show  himself  in  his  true  original 
shape,  mere  Devil  as  he  was. 

"  This  would  do  nicely,  and  as  I,  who  am  originally  a 
projector,'  have  spent  some  time  upon  this  study,  and 
doubt  not  in  a  little  time  to  finish  my  engine,  which  I  am 
contriving,  to  screw  the  Devil  out  of  everybody,  or  any- 
body, I  question  not  when  I  have  brought  it  to  perfec- 
tion but  I  shall  make  most  excellent  discoveries  by  it  ; 
and  besides  the  many  extraordinary  advantages  of  it  to 
human  society,  I  doubt  not  but  it  will  make  good  sport  in 
the  world,  too  ;  therefore,  when  I  publish  my  proposals,  and 
divide  it  into  shares,  as  other  less  useful  projects  have  been 
done,  I  question  not  for  all  the  severe  act  lately  passed 
against  bubbles,  but  I  shall  get  subscribers  enough," 
etc. 

Do  "  the  several  acts"  here  alluded  to  relate  to  some  of 
the  known  acts  of  Queen  Elizabeth  against  actors  ?  As  to 
dividing  the  enterprise  into  shares,  Charles  Reade  in  his 
work  entitled  "  The  Tenth  Commandment,"  in  present- 
ing the  question  of  remuneration  for  dramatic  litei*ary 
work,  as  between  the  paid  authors  and  the  sharing  authors, 
at  page  182  says  :  "  These  did  not  write  so  well  as  the 
sharers  ;  it  was  not  in  nature  they  should  ;  and  the  above 

*  The  words  "  project"  and  "  engine,"  as  here  used,  will  be  found 
constant  words  in  every  phase  of  these  writings.  And  they  will  be 
found  to  be  somewhat  distinctively  used.  Note  the  word  "  engine" 
in  our  quotation  from  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  69,  and  note  the 
oft  use  of  the  word  "project"  in  the  plays.  In  The  Tempest,  Act 
v.,  sc.  1,  p.  91,  we  have: 

"  Pro.  Now  does  my  project  gather  to  a  head  : 
My  charms  crack  not  ;  my  spirits  obey  ;  and  time 
Goes  upright  with  his  carriage." 

And  in  the  "  Epilogue"  to  the  play  we  have  : 

' '  Gentle  breath  of  yours  my  sails 
Must  fill,  or  else  my  project  fails, 
Which  was  to  please." 

This  was  an  oft-used  word  by  Bacon,  and  he  even  refers  to  his 
Great  Instauration  as  a  project.     (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  8.) 


110  INTRODUCTION. 

was  not  bad  pay  for  their  crude  and  hasty  though  talented 
compositions.  Shakespeare  avoided  that  trap.  He  was 
paid  from  the  first  as  the  French  dramatists  are  paid  now — 
viz.,  by  a  share  in  the  receipts  in  the  house.  And  he 
■wrote  iiis  best,  because  that  system  made  it  a  man's  inter- 
est to  write  his  best." 

From  the  mentioned  History  of  the  Devil,  p.  458,  w^e 
further  quote  : 

"  We  find  the  Devil  is  a  true  posture-master  :  he  assumes 
any  dress,  appears  in  any  shape,  counterfeits  every  voice, 
acts  upon  every  stage  ;  here  he  wears  a  gown,  there  a  long 
robe  ;  here  he  wears  the  jack-boots,  there  the  small 
sword  ;  is  here  an  enthusiast,  there  a  buffoon  ;  on  this 
side  he  acts  the  mountebank,  on  that  side  the  merry- 
andrew  ;  nothing  comes  amiss  to  him,  from  the  Great 
Mogul  to  the  scaramouch  ;  the  Devil  is  in  them,  more 
or  less,  and  plays  his  game  so  well,  that  he  makes  sure 
work  with  them  all  :  he  knows  where  the  common  foible 
lies,  which  is  universal  passion,  what  handle'  to  take  hold 
of  every  man  by,  and  how  to  cultivate  his  interest,  so  as 
not  to  fail  of  his  end  or  mistake  the  nipans." 

Queries  have  existed  as  to  why  Lord  Bacon  failed  to 
elaborate  some  system  of  metaphysics.  It  will,  however, 
be  found  that  he  marked  off  metaphysics  from  the  realm 
of  philosophy,  and  caused  it  to  be  enacted  in  its  subtleties 
before  the  eyes  of  men,  instead  of  theorizing  about  it. 
And  he  here  manifests  as  subtle  watchfulness  for  objective 
material  change  and  appearances,  for  the  forms  and  shows 
of  motives,  in  his  sense  of  the  idols  of  the  den,  of  the  tribe, 
of  the  market,  and  of  the  theatre,  as  for  mere  material 

'  We  would  have  the  reader  particularly  note  this  distinctively  used 
Baconian  word  "  handle,"  as  we  shall  later  have  occasion  to  call  it 
under  review  in  connection  with  his  treatment  of  the  subject  of 
memory  ;  and  here  quote  him  as  follows  :  "  It  deceives,  secondly, 
in  respect  of  that  principle  of  nature,  that  the  decay  of  one  thing 
is  the  generation  of  another  ;  so  that  the  degree  of  extreme  priva- 
tion is  sometimes  of  less  disadvantage,  because  it  gives  a  handle  and 
stimulus  to  some  new  course."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv.,  p. 466.)  And 
in  Addison,  vol.  ii.,  p.  255,  we  have  :  "  This  I  know  will  be  matter 
of  greac  raillery  to  the  small  wits  ;  who  will  frequently  put  me  in  mind 
of  my  promise,  desire  me  to  keep  my  word,  assure  me  that  it  is  high 
time  to  give  over,  with  many  other  pleasantries  of  the  like  nature, 
which  men  of  a  little  smart  genius  cannot  forbear  throwing  out 
against  their  best  friends,  when  they  have  such  a  handle  given  them 
of  being  witty." 


INTRODUCTION.  Ill 

effects  in  the  realm  of  physics.'  He  nowhere  in  his  writ- 
ings merely  theorizes  or  speculates,  but  he  ever  sought  in 
effects  for  fruit. 

The  mentioned  idols  of  the  den  we  often  find  covertly 
alluded  to  in  the  plays.  In  Eomeo  and  Juliet,  Act  ii., 
so.  4,  p.  82,  we  have  : 

"  Nurse.  God  ye  good  morrow,  gentlemen. 
"  Mer.  God  ye  good  den,  fair  gentle  woman. 
'*  Nurse.  Is  it  good  den  ?" 

In  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  Act  v.,  sc.  1,  p.  229,  we 
have  : 

"  Ant.  Here  comes  the  prince,  and  Claudio,  hastily. 
"  D.  Pedro.  Good  den,  good  den. 
"  Claud.  Good  day  to  both  of  you." 

In  Love's  Labor's  Lost,  Act  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  405,  we  have  : 

"  Prin.  Here  comes  a  member  of  the  commonwealth, 
"  Cost.  God  dig-you-den  all  !" 

Our  Shakespeare  commentators,  for  want  of  a  better 
clew  to  this  word  "den,"  tell  us  that  it  must  in  some 
places  in  the  plays  mean  "  day"  and  in  other  places 
"  even  ;"  as,  God  give  ye  good  day,  and  God  give  ye  good 
even.  We  must  claim  to  the  reader,  however,  that  this  is 
a  Baconian  word,  and  alludes  in  its  distinct  Baconian 
sense  to  his  idols  or  errors  of  the  den,  and  the  expression 
to  mean,  God  give  ye  a  good  inner  state  of  heart,  life, 
mind,  etc. 

The  expression  in  the  last  example,  "  God  dig-you- 
den  all,"  Hudson  says  is  "  a  corruption  of  God  give  j'e 
good  even,"  But  the  meaning  which  we  draw  from  the 
words  is,  that  the  corrupt  den  of  them  all  needs  to  be  dug 
or  renovated.  As  between  these  interpretations  the  reader 
must  judge. 

'  Bacon  says  :  "  Knowledge  of  men  may  be  derived  and  obtained 
in  six  ways  :  by  their  countenances  and  expressions,  their  words, 
their  actions,  their  dispositions,  their  ends  and,  lastly,  by  the  reports 
of  others.  With  regard  to  the  countenance,  be  not  influenced  by  the 
old  adage,  '  Trust  not  a  man's  face  ; '  for  though  this  may  not  be 
wrongly  said  of  the  general  outward  carriage  of  the  face  and  action, 
yet  there  are  some  more  subtle  motions  and  labours  of  the  eyes, 
mouth,  countenance,  and  gesture  by  which  (as  Q.  Cicero  elegantly 
expressed  it),  the  '  door  of  the  mind  '  is  unlocked  and  opened."  (De 
Augmentis,  ch.  ii..  Book  8.) 


112  INTRODUCTION. 

Concerning  metaphysics,  Bacon,  in  his  already  mentioned 
letter  at  p.  64,  says  : 

"  I  have  read  your  letter  with  pleasure  ;  and  since  be- 
tween lovers  of  truth  ardour  begets  candour,  I  will  return 
to  your  ingenious  questions  an  ingenious  reply. 

"  I  do  not  propose  to  give  up  syllogism  altogether.  Syl- 
logism is  incompetent  for  the  principal  things  rather  than 
useless  for  the  generality. 

"  In  the  mathematics  there  is  no  reason  why  it  should 
not  be  employed.  It  is  the  flux  of  matter  and  the  incon- 
stancy of  the  physical  body  which  requires  Induction  ; 
that  thereby  it  may  be  fixed,  as  it  were,  and  allowed  the 
formation  of  notions  well  defined. 

"  Be  not  troubled  about  Metaphysics.'  When  true 
Physics  have  been  discovered,  there  will  be  no  Metaphysics. 
Beyond  the  true  Physics  is  divinity  only."  ' 

And  so  in  Aph.  127,  Book  1  of  the  Novum  Organum 
he  says  :  "  And  as  common  logic,  which  regulates  matters 
by  syllogisms,  is  applied  not  only  to  natural,  but  also  to 
every  other  science,  so  our  inductive  method  likewise  com- 
prehends them  all.  For  we  form  a  history  and  tables  of 
invention  for  anger,  fear,  shame,  and  the  like,  and  also 
for  examples  in  civil  life,  and  the  mental  operations  of 
memory,  composition,  division,  judgment,  and  the  rest,  as 
well  as  for  heat  and  cold,  light,  vegetation,  and  the  like. 
But  since  our  method  of  interpretation,  after  preparing 
and  arranging  a  history,  does  not  content  itself  with  ex- 
amining the  operations  and  disquisitions  of  the  mind  like 
common  logic,  but  also  inspects  the  nature  of  things,  we 
so  regulate  the  mind  that  it  may  be  enabled  to  apply  itself 
in  every  respect  correctly  to  that  nature.  On  that  account 
we  deliver  numerous  and  various  precepts  in  our  doctrine 
of  interpretation,  so  that  they  may  apply  in  some  measure 
to  the  method  of  discovering  the  quality  and  condition  of 
the  subject-matter  of  investigation." 

Here,  as  in  many  places  in  his  writings,  we  are  reminded 
that  there  are  no  common  grounds  even  for  comparison 
between  Bacon's  tabular  methods  and  those  extant,  his 

'  Swift  says  :  "  With  regard  to  metaphysics,  they  looe  upon  the 
entire  subject  as  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision."  (Gulliver's  Travels, 
p.  125.) 

'^  And  so,  again,  may  we  see  why  Bacon  had  not  words  for  mental, 
and  others  for  material  things. 


INTRODUCTION.  113 

being,  as  it  were,  mechanical,  and  grounded,  not  upon 
speculative  thoughts  or  theories  of  logic,  but  wholly  upon 
material  changes  as  viewed  through  his  system.  Concern- 
ing other  systems  he  says  :  "  And,  besides,  so  many  and  so 
vast  are  the  troops'  of  errors  which  present  themselves, 
that  we  must  overthrow  and  dislodge  them,  not  in  close 
detail  but  in  mass  ;  and  if  we  would  draw  near  unto  them, 
and  try  conclusions,  hand  to  hand  with  each  of  them  in- 
dividually, it  were  in  vain  ;  the  rule  of  all  reasoning  be 
set  aside,  differing  as  we  do  from  them  in  our  principles, 
and  repudiating  as  we  do  the  very  forms  and  authority  of 
their  proofs  and  demonstrations."  (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  556.) 

Prom  the  foregoing  it  will  appear  why  Bacon  elaborated 
no  separate  treatise  upon  metaphysics.  Instead  of  the- 
orizing about  what  is  in  man,  he,  in  his  Shakespeare 
mask,  held  forth  a  true  anatomy  of,  and  enacted  even  in 
their  very  eyes,  their  most  subtle  passions  and  emotions, 
and  this  done  with  the  particular  aim  of  showing  vigorously 
the  outcome  and  end  of  bad  motives  ;  and  thus  to  lead 
men,  as  by  sight,  to  realize  and  hence  to  shun  them. 

And  thus  did  he  in  "  a  despised  weed  "  procure  the  good 
of  all  men  ;  yea,  and  will  for  the  ages  yet  to  be.  And 
this  field  of  work,  the  real  drama,  and  the  reformation  of 
the  English  stage,  was  doubtless  intended  to  be  included 
in  our  Head-light — "  For  I  have  taken  all  knowledge  to  be 
my  providence." 

In  this  way  he  read  not  merely  to  his  age,  but  to  the 
ages  ;  and  not  merely  lessons  in  history  or  in  the  lives  of 
English  kings,  but,  as  in  Hamlet,  the  lesson  of  misgoverned 
sex  ;  in  the  Merchant,  the  lesson  of  greed  ;  in  Lear,  the 
lesson  of  ingratitude  ;  in  Macbeth,  the  lesson  of  o'erwean- 
ing  ambition  ;  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  the  outcome  and  end 
of  violent  party  feuds  ;  in  Othello,  the  lesson  of  jealousy 

'  This  unusual  use  of  the  word  "troops"  is  distinctly  Baconian, 
and  we  find  him  using  the  expressions  "  troops  of  effects, "  ' '  troops  of 
fiction,"  "  troops  of  fairies,"  etc.  And  in  his  Philosophical  Works, 
vol.  iv.,  p.  29,  we  have  :  "  For  I  well  know  that  axioms  once  rightly 
discovered  will  carry  whole  troops  of  works  along  with  them,  not  here 
and  there  one,  but  in  clusters."  In  Addison,  vol.  vi.,  p.  608,  we  have 
the  expression  "troop  of  forms,"  and  on  p.  612  "  troop  of  commen- 
tators."    And  in  Macbeth,  Act  v.,  sc.  3,  p.  333,  we  have  : 

"  And  that  which  should  accompany  old  age. 
As  honour,  love,  obedience,  troops  of  friends, 
I  must  not  look  to  have. " 


114  INTRODUCTION. 

awakened  and  fed  by  extrinsic  evil  influences,  to  the  over- 
throw of  noble  natures,  and  thus  to  the  end.  And  the 
full  end  being  the  good  of  men,  we  do  find  him  in  high 
terms  commending,  in  some  of  the  sonnets,  his  own  mask, 
and  this  though  things  had  greatly  changed  since  his 
assuming  it,  and  though  fulsome  praise  was  thereby  to 
fall,  not  merely  upon  it,  but  upon  the  person  of  William 
Shakespeare  as  well  ;  and  who  had  now,  as  we  judge,  the 
Lord  Bacon  somewhat  in  his  power.  See  at  least  Sonnets 
133  and  134  and  the  poem  entitled  The  Phoenix  and  the 
Turtle,  with  which  the  Shakespeare  writings  are  brought 
to  conclusion. 

Bacon  would  not  now,  by  claiming  these  writings,  permit 
the  stain  put  upon  his  name  to  fall  upon  his  mask  ;  and  so 
in  one  of  the  introductory  poems  to  the  plays  we  have  : 

"  To  draw  no  envy,  Shakespeare,  on  thy  name, 
Am  1  thus  ample  to  thy  book  and  fame  ; 
While  I  confess  thy  writings  to  be  such 
As  neither  man,  nor  muse,  can  praise  too  much  ; 
'Tis  true,  and  all  men's  suffrage.     But  these  ways 
Were  not  the  paths  I  meant  unto  thy  praise  : 
For  silliest  ignorance  on  these  may  light, 
Which,  when  it  sounds  at  best,  but  echoes  right  ; 
Or  blind  affection,  which  doth  ne'er  advance 
The  truth,  but  gropes,  and  urgeth  all  by  chance  ; 
Or  crafty  malice  might  pretend  this  praise, 
And  think  to  ruin,  where  it  seem'd  to  raise  : 
These  are,  as  some  infamous  bawd,  or  whore 
Should  praise  a  matron  :  what  would  hurt  her  more  ? 
But  thou  art  proof  against  them  ;  and,  indeed-, 
Above  the  ill  fortune  of  them,  or  the  need." 

And  see  Sonnets  36,  37,  38,  and  39. 

Though  this  poem  is  accredited  to  Ben  Jonson,  we  still 
regard  all  of  the  poems  introductory  to  the  plays  as  framed 
at  least  by  Lord  Bacon  himself.  The  issue  of  the  Phoenix 
First  Folio  was,  we  judge,  under  his  entire  supervision. 

And  so  in  the  Anatomy  of  Abuses  we  have  painted  forth 
man's  abuses  in  externals,  as  in  apparel,  habits,  customs, 
etc.;  in  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy  we  find  anatomized 
his  inward  state  by  nature  ;  in  the  Defoe  History  of  the 
Devil,  the  spirit  of  evil  as  the  cause  of  that  state  ;  in  the 
plays  we  find  presented  the  state  and  cause  conjoined  in 
operation  upon  the  living  stage  ;  while  in  the  Philosophi- 
cal Writings  we  find  the  plaster  or  remedy.  In  the  men- 
tioned works  of  Roxana,  Moll  Flanders,  Captain  Jack,  and 


INTKODUCTIOK.  115 

others  may  be  found  displayed  the  working  of  passions 
amid  relations  too  slow  for  the  real  drama,  and  which  may 
have  served  somewhat  as  scaffolding  thereto. 

In  Aph.  124,  Book  1  of  the  Xoviim  Organum  Bacon  says  : 
"  For  we  are  founding  a  real  model  of  the  world  in  the 
understanding,  such  as  it  is  found  to  he,  not  such  as  man's 
reason  has  distorted.  Now  this  cannot  be  done  without 
dissecting  and  anatomizing  the  world  most  diligently  ; 
bat  we  declare  it  necessary  to  destroy  completely  the  vain 
little,  and  as  it  were  apish  imitations  of  the  world,  which 
have  been  formed  in  various  systems  of  philosophy  by 
men's  fancies." 

But  again,  if  Shakespeare  be  not  the  real  author  of  the 
writings  attributed  to  him,  is  it  not  more  than  likely  that 
they  contain  specific  indications  in  this  direction  ?  In 
Sonnet  81  we  may  find  the  answer  ;  and  wherein  it  is  said 
that  two  persons  are  concerned  in  them,  that  one  is  to 
have  all  of  the  honor,  and  the  other  is  to  have  but  a  com- 
mon grave  ;  and  that  it  is  the  pen  of  the  one  who  is  to 
have  but  the  common  grave,  that  has  made  the  monument 
for  the  other,  and  this  whether  or  not  he  shall  live  to  make 
his  epitaph,     He  says  : 

"  Or  I  shall  live  your  epitaph  to  make, 
Or  you  survive  when  I  in  earth  am  rotten  ; 
From  hence  your  memory  death  cannot  take, 
Although  in  me  each  part  will  be  forgotten. 
Your  name  from  hence  immortal  life  shall  have. 
Although  I,  once  gone,  to  all  the  world  must  die  : 
The  earth  can  yield  me  but  a  common  grave, 
When  you  entombed  in  men's  eyes  shall  lie. 
Your  monument  shall  be  my  gentle  verse. 
Which  eyes  not  yet  created  shall  o'er-read  ; 
And  tongues  to  he  your  being  shall  rehearse. 
When  all  the  breathers  of  this  world  are  dead  ; 
You  still  shall  live  (such  virtue  hath  my  pen) 
Where  breath  most  breathes,  even  in  the  mouths  of  men." 

Who  did  frame  Shakespeare's  question  suggesting  epi- 
taph ?  Who  did  frame  the  question  suggesting  sign  erected 
at  Stratford  ?  From  an  admirable  article  in  the  Atlantic 
Monthly  for  July,  1861,  "  On  Sun-Painting  and  Sun- 
Sculpture,"  we  quote  :  "  The  cracked  and  faded  sign  pro- 
jects as  we  remember  it  of  old.  In  Ko.  1  you  may  read 
'  The  Immortal.  HAKESpere  .  .  .  Born  in  This 
House '  about  as  well  as  if  you  had  been  to  the  trouble 
and  expense  of  going  there." 


IIG  INTRODUCTION. 

Through  Bacon's  troubles,  his  right  of  sepulchre  was 
shorn  away,  and  so  in  Sonnet  68,  and  where  the  days  of 
Elizabeth  are  brought  into  contrast,  we  think,  with  those 
of  James  the  First,  he  says  : 

"  Thus  in  bis  cheek  the  map  of  days  outworn, 
When  beauty  liv'd  and  died  as  flowers  do  now, 
Before  these  bastard  signs  of  fair  were  born, 
Or  durst  inhabit  on  a  Mving  brow  ; 
Before  the  golden  tresses  of  the  dead, 
The  riglit  of  sepulchres,  were  shorn  away,' 
To  live  a  second  life  on  second  head, 
Ere  beauty's  dead  fleece  made  another  gay. 
In  him  those  holy  antique  hours  are  seen, 
Without  all  ornament,  itself,  and  true. 
Making  no  summer  of  another's  green. 
Robbing  no  old  to  dress  his  beauty  new  ; 
And  him  as  for  a  map  doth  Nature  store. 
To  show  false  Art  what  beauty  was  of  yore."* 

Whatever  affected  deeply  the  keen  sensitive  life  of  Lord 
Bacon  may  be  found  reflected  in  the  sonnets.  They  are 
the  curiously  wrought  keys  by  the  study  of  which  we  may 
find  reflected  his  inmost  feelings.  His  pen  here  was  often 
as  subtle  as  in  portions  of  his  jahilosophy.  It  should  be  re- 
membered, however,  that  the  sonnets,  whoever  may  have 
been  their  aitthor,  were  not  written  consecutively.  They 
are  fragmentary,  having  been  produced  at  different  periods 
during  the  life  of  their  author,  and  hence  they  are  the 
outcome  of  different  occasions  and  emotions,  as  we  shall 
see  as  we  advance.  Lord  Bacon  possessed  an  abiding  faith 
that  the  ages  to  come  would  do  him  justice,  and  so  they 
will,  as  the  light  of  new  developments  shall  make  for  or 
against  him  ;  and  whatever  conclusions  may  be  reached  as 
to  elements  of  strength  or  weakness  in  his  private  charac- 
ter, we  must  look  further  and  deeper  than  did  Macaulay 
if  we  would  arrive  at  truth. 

In  his  fall,  whatever  may  have  been  his  personal  losses, 
the  world  has  been  most  richly  blessed  in  the  leisure  which 
it  brought,  not  merely  to  new  literary  work,  but  to  that 
which  otherwise  would  have  been  as  good  as  lost.  It  like- 
wise furnished  forth  the  coloring  for  his  great  concluding 
drama.  The  Tempest. 

'  Promus,  1076  :  (The  loss  of  a  tomb  is  easy  [to  bear].) 

'  This  "  second  life  on  second  head"  will  fall  later  under  review. 


RELATIOI^AL  FACTS. 


The  period  falling  within  the  general  scope  of  this  work 
may  be  said  to  extend  through  many  reigns  of  English 
history,  beginning  with  the  birth  of  Sir  Francis  Bacon, 
January  22d,  1561,  and  ending  with  the  death  of  Defoe, 
April  26th,  1731,  a  period  of  one  hundred  and  seventy 
"years. 

Events  immediately  preceding  and  influencing  tins 
period,  as  well  as  a  iiind  of  relational  survey  of  it,  to  the 
end  of  the  reign  of  James  the  First,  will  be  now  made. 
Queen  Elizabeth,  in  the  third  year  of  whose  reign  Lord 
liacon  was  born,  was  a  daughter  of  Henry  the  Eighth, 
under  whom,  in  1534,  began  the  great  Church  reformation 
in  England  by  his  abjuring  the  Pope  or  ecclesiastical 
power  of  Kome,  then  supreme  over  all  of  the  powers  of  the 
earth,  and  announcing  himself  as  the  head  of  all  ecclesi- 
astical power  in  England  ;  in  other  words,  as  now  head  of 
the  English  Church.  This  step  by  Henry  was  due  chiefly 
to  the  fact  of  his  excommunication  in  consequence  of  his 
divorce,  without  tlie  Pope's  consent,  of  his  first,  and  then 
wife,  Catherine  of  Aragon,  a  daughter  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella  of  Spain,  and  his  marriage  with  Anne  Boleyn,  the 
mother  of  Elizabeth,  rather  than  from  any  special  desire 
upon  his  part  for  church  reform.  He  had,  indeed,  to  this 
time  been  a  zealous  advocate  of  the  Roman  faith,  and  by 
the  writing  of  a  book  against  the  then  but  opening  doc- 
trines of  ,the  Reformation  had  received  from  the  Church 
of  Rome  the  title  of  "  Defender  of  the  Faith. "  The  men- 
tioned event  thus  furnished  but  the  rending  or  breach,  so 
to  speak,  for  the  development  of  the  then  advancing 
thought,  first  initialed  in  1517  by  Martin  Luther,  Pro- 
fessor of  the  University  of  Wittenberg,  in  Germany,  by 
his  sermons  and  writings  against  abuses  of  the  Roman 
Church  in  its  granting,  under  the  then  new  Pope,  Leo  X. 


118  RELATIONAL   FACTS. 

of  what  was  known  as  the  sale  of  indulgences,  and  which 
led  to  the  opening  of  questions  at  first  unaimed  at. 

Upon  the  mentioned  breach  with  Eome  the  monasteries 
and  nunneries  in  England  were  all  suppressed  or  swept 
away,  and  the  monastic  property,  amounting  to  more  than 
a  million  of  dollars,  was  given  to  the  Crown.  In  the  fall 
of  the  monasteries,  the  schools  of  England,  and  which  were 
connected  with  them,  shared  their  fate.  And  in  1549,  care- 
fully compiled  from  the  old  service  books,  appeared  the 
first  English  Prayer-Book,  concerning  which  great  dissen- 
sions arose,  as  we  shall  see.  It  was  adopted  by  an  act 
which  prohibited,  under  heavy  penalties,  all  other  forms 
of  devotion,  and  was  known  as  the  Act  of  Uniformity. 

Henry  the  Eighth  was  fruit  of  a  marriage  between  the 
White  and  Red  Rose,  otherwise  known  in  English  history 
for  several  generations  as  the  contending  houses  of  York 
and  Lancaster,  his  father,  Henry  the  Seventh,  being  an 
illegitimate  branch  of  the  House  of  Lancaster,  and  his 
mother,  a  daughter  of  Edward  the  Fourth,  being  of  the 
House  of  York.  By  this  union,  coupled  with  the  fact  of 
the  prior  defeat  of  the  House  of  York,  in  the  person  of 
Richard  the  Third,  on  Bosworth  Field  by  Henry  the  Sev- 
enth, in  1485,  these  great  factions  in  England  had  become 
somewhat  harmonized  before  the  mentioned  outbreak  with 
Rome.  Through  the  craft  and  covetousness  of  Henry  the 
Seventh,  together  with  the  now  proceeds  of  the  monastic 
property,  England  had  a  full  treasury.  Not  only  this,  but 
Henry  the  Eighth  was  the  first  king  of  unquestioned  title 
since  the  reign  of  Richard  the  Second. 

Prior  to  the  death  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  which 
occurred  in  1547,  and  but  fourteen  years  prior  to  the  birth 
of  Lord  Bacon,  he  by  will,  under  the  sanction  of,  and  by  a 
statute  of  Parliament  known  as  the  Thirty- five  of  Henry 
the  Eighth,  provided  that  the  succession  should  fall  upon 
his  three  children  by  different  wives  in  the  following  order  : 
First  upon  his  son  Edward,  by  his  third  wife,  Jane  Sey- 
mour ;  then  upon  Mary,  by  his  first  wife,  Catherine  of 
Aragon  ;  then  Elizabeth,  by  his  second  wife,  Anne  Boleyn. 
And  as  Henry  the  Seventh  was  the  first,  so  was  Elizabeth 
the  last  of  the  Tudor  kings,  this  line  having  been  spent  in 
one  generation  and  three  successions  without  issue.  The 
male  line  thus  failing  upon  Elizabeth's  death,  entitled 
James  the  Sixth  of  Scotland  to  the  throne  as  James  the 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  119 

First  of  England,  he  being  directly  descended  of  a  mar- 
riage between  Margaret,  the  eldest  sister  of  Henry  the 
Eighth,  with  the  Scotch  King  James  the  Fourth.  By 
this  marriage  the  design  of  Henry  the  Seventh — the  union 
of  the  two  crowns  of  England  and  Scotland — was  finally 
accomplished  and  without  confusion.  During  his  reign 
and  in  1492  America  was  discovered,  his  reign  having 
begun  in  1485  and  ended  by  his  death,  in  1509,  and  which 
event  brought  Henry  the  Eighth  to  the  throne  as  stated. 
Under  his  son  Edward,  known  in  history  as  Edward  the 
Sixth,  the  principles  of  the  Reformation  became  somewhat 
securely  rested  or  fixed,  the  father,  Henry  the  Eighth, 
having  done  little  more  than  to  withdraw  his  kingdom 
from  Papal  authority.  He  himself  still  retained  substan- 
tially the  views  of  the  ancient  Church — the  Church  of 
Eome. 

Upon  the  accession  of  Mary,  however,  unpleasantly 
known  in  history  as  Bloody  Mary,  terror  was  brought  to 
the  reforming  party.  She  had  become  an  avowed  Catho- 
lic, and  early  in  her  reign  became  wedded  to  the  Catholic 
prince,  Philip  the  Second,  the  son,  and  on  January  16th, 
1556,  successor  of  that  powerful  monarch  Charles  the 
Fifth  of  Spain,  and  who  was  head  of  the  Catholic  party 
in  Europe  ;  and  thus  was  England  returned  to  Catholic 
rule  and  to  the  terrible  persecutions  that  followed. 

At  his  accession  Philip  became  King  of  Spain,  Naples, 
and  Sicily,  Duke  of  Milan,  Lord  of  Franche  Comte  and 
the  Netherlands,  Ruler  of  Tunis  and  the  Barbary  court, 
the  Canaries  and  Cape  de  Verd  Islands,  the  Philippines 
and  Spice  Islands,  large  colonies  in  the  West  Indies,  and 
vast  territories  in  Mexico  and  Peru. 

As  applied  merely  to  England,  it  was  during  Mary's 
reign  that  the  great  battle  between  Romanism  and  Prot- 
estantism was  fought  out,  more  than  eight  hundred  vic- 
tims having  beeen  burned  to  the  stake,  the  effect  of  which 
but  the  more  rapidly  ripened  the  Protestant  cause. 

But  Mary's  reign  was  short,  as  had  been  Edward's,  he 
having  reigned  but  six  and  she  five  years.  Upon  Mary's 
death,  in  1558,  Elizabeth,  at  the  age  of  twenty-five  years, 
ascended  the  English  throne,  to  the  great  comfort  and  satis- 
faction of  the  reforming  party.  During  the  reign  of  her 
sister  her  life  had  been  much  in  jeopardy,  but  was  pre- 
served by  concealment  of  her  real  convictions,  and  by  con- 


120  RELATIONAL  FACTS. 

forming  outwardly  to  the  views  and  forms  of  the  ancient 
Church.  Upon  her  accession,  however,  she  began  the 
re-establishment  of  the  Eeformed  or  Protestant  faith,  at 
once  setting  free  those  who  had  been  banished  or  impris- 
oned for  their  religious  opinions,  and  her  first  Parliament, 
in  1559,  again  established  the  supremacy  of  the  crown  in 
ecclesiastical  matters,  and  gave  the  Church  of  England  its 
present  form.  The  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  used  in  the 
reign  of  her  brother,  Edward  the  Sixth,  with  some  alter- 
ations, was  adopted  and  ordered  to  be  read  in  all  the 
churches.  Ecclesiastical  dignitaries,  including  the  bishops, 
declined  generally  to  take  part  in  her  coronation,  and  now 
refused  to  take  the  oath  of  supremacy.  They  were  re- 
moved, and  the  Episcopal  sees  were  filled  with  those  ready 
to  support  the  Reformed  faith,  and  Parker  became  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury.  While  all  were  required  to  attend 
the  Established  Church,  there  was  no  longer  search  made, 
as  formerly,  into  men's  opinions,  with  the  view  of  punish- 
ing particular  forms  of  belief,  though  heavy  fines  were 
imposed  either  for  non-attendance  at  church,  or  for  cele- 
brating mass,  and  all  Jesuits  and  persons  trying  to  win 
over  any  to  the  Roman  faith  were  treated  as  guilty  of 
treason.  While  many  conformed  to  the  new  laws,  rules, 
and  order  of  things,  from  mere  worldly  motives,  many 
more,  even  among  Protestants,  could  not  conscientiously 
do  so.  Among  these  were  those  who  were  desirous — as 
was  Lord  Bacon,  though  he  stood  by  the  Established 
Church — of  restoring  what  they  thought  to  be  the  worship 
of  the  first  century  after  Christ,  and  who  became  known 
as  Puritans.  These  views  had  been  brought  from  abroad 
by  English  exiles  during  the  reign  of  Queen  Mary.  They 
sought  to  press  their  acceptance  upon  the  English  Church  ; 
but  all  Protestants  who,  for  whatever  cause,  did  not  con- 
form willingly  to  the  new  faith,  the  faith  of  the  Church 
of  England,  were  called  Dissenters  or  Nonconformists. 
The  Catholics,  on  the  other  hand,  as  a  party,  constituted 
a  powerful  opposition,  and  the  whole  of  this  and  the  next 
reign — the  reign  of  James  the  First — was  an  almost  unin- 
terrupted struggle  with  these  factions — the  Church  party, 
the  Nonconformists,  and  the  Catholics.  And  the  earliest 
papers  put  forth  by  Defoe  were  upon  these  questions,  as 
we  shall  find  wlien  we  come  to  that  branch  of  our  subject. 
Thus,  by  these  but  touched-upon  events,  may  be  seen 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  121 

the  breacli  between  raedi£eval  and  modern  times  ;  the  break- 
ing up  of  the  old  and  the  violent  birth  of  the  new.  And 
as  there  must  ever  be  a  physical  rending,  so  to  speak, 
before  the  influential  can  go  forward,  so  in  the  doings  of 
Henry  the  Eighth  may  be  seen  that  mere  rending  which 
aided  the  Reformation,  as  well  Italian  and  C4erman,  as  in 
England,  to  move  to  its  birth,  but  in  which  Henry's  ends 
■were  but  his  own  personal  desires  and  will. 

To  the  time  of  Henry  the  Eighth  the  Pope  had  assumed 
to  himself  all  power,  both  spiritual  and  temporal,  over  all 
of  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  he  proclaimed  and  his 
adherents  avowed  the  doctrine  of  his  infallibility  ;  and  the 
world  was  thus  awed  into  obedience. 

Following  close  upon  such  times,  under  such  influences, 
and  three  years  prior  to  the  birth  of  Galileo  and  thirty- 
five  prior  to  that  of  Descartes,  was  Lord  Bacon  born,  at 
London,  January  22d,  1561,  at  York  House  in  the  Strand, 
not  then  a  street. 

Upon  Elizabeth's  death,  in  1603,  after  forty-five  years  of 
the  most  brilliant  of  the  reigns  of  English  history,  James 
the  Sixth  of  Scotland  came  to  the  throne  as  James  the 
First  of  England,  as  already  stated,  and  his  reign  contin- 
ued twenty-two  years  and  until  his  death,  March  27,  1625. 
Lord  Bacon  is  said  to  have  died  the  year  following. 

The  reign  of  James  the  First,  and  who  was  the  first  of 
the  House  of  Stuarts,  was  followed  by  that  of  his  son, 
Charles  the  First,  twenty-four  years,  and  whose  head  was 
brought  to  the  block  January  30,  1649.  He  left  two  sons, 
who  ultimately  as  Charles  the  Second  and  James  the 
Second  came  to  the  throne.  But  now  followed  the  Long 
Parliament,  four  years  ;  Cromwell,  five  years  ;  his  son  Rich- 
ard, two  years,  and  until  the  restoration  of  the  monarchy 
under  the  mentioned  Charles  the  Second  on  April  25th, 
1660,  and  whose  reign  continued  twenty-five  years,  during 
the  second  year  of  which,  and  in  1661,  both  Harley  and 
Defoe  were  born.  During  this  reign  The  Pilgrim's  Progress 
first  appeared.  Then  came  the  Catholic  prince,  James  the 
Second,  four  years,  and  until  the  Revolution  of  1688  ; 
then  William  and  Mary,  twelve  years  ;  then  Anne,  the  last 
of  the  House  of  Stuarts,  twelve  years,  and  under  whom 
was  finally  effected  the  union  of  laws  between  England 
and  Scotland,  they  having,  until  this  time,  been  but  united 
in  their  crowns,  as  we  shall  see  ;  then  came  George  the 


12'Z  RELATIONAL   FACTS. 

First,  the  first  of  the  House  of  Hanover,  thirteen  years  ; 
then  George  the  Second,  thirty-three  years,  and  whose  reign 
ended  in  1760.  Defoe  died  in  1731,  in  the  fourth  year  of 
this  reign,  at  which  time  our  period  ends. 

These  briefly  stated  facts  will  as  way-marks  aid  our  in- 
vestigation, and  may  give  the  reader  a  kind  of  general 
survey  of  the  period  falling  within  it.  That  portion  of 
the  period  following  the  reign  of  James  the  First,  as  well 
as  the  later  portion  of  that  reign,  embraces  a  very  intriguing 
and  desultory  portion  of  Fnglish  history. 

Events  following  this  reign  will,  however,  be  considered 
only  in  connection  with  the  life  of  Defoe. 

It  should  be  here  carefully  noted  by  the  reader,  that  prior 
to  the  Reformation,  the  spiritual  and  educational  interests, 
not  only  of  England,  but  of  the  world,  were  under  the 
dictation  of  Kome,  and  that  literary  acquirements  were 
confined  almost  wholly  to  the  clergy.  During  the  reign 
of  Henry  the  Eighth,  as  well  as  of  his  son,  Edward  the 
Sixth,  one  who  could  not  read  Greek  and  Latin  could 
read  nothing  or  next  to  nothing.  The  entire  books  writ- 
ten in  the  vernacular  during  this  period  could,  it  is  said, 
be  placed  on  a  single  shelf  of  a  gentleman's  library,  so 
few  were  they  in  number.  The  Latin  was  the  language 
of  the  court,  of  diplomacy,  and  of  the  schools,  as  well  as 
of  theological  speculations  and  controversies.  This  was 
but  eleven  jears  prior  to  the  birth  of  William  Shakespeare, 
Edward  having  died  July  6th,  1553,  and  Shakespeare  born 
April  23d,  1564. 

But  the  Reformation  initiated  politically  and  in  every 
way  a  new  order  of  things.  The  nobles  ceased  now  to  be 
military  chieftains  with  kept  retinues  to  assist  them  in 
their  feuds  or  wars.  Priests  ceased  to  possess  a  monopoly 
of  learning,  and  in  their  stead  there  arose  cautious,  dis- 
creet, and  learned  politicians,  made  discreet  and  cautious 
by  the  general  ferment  and  terrible  persecutions  which 
followed  that  event.  The  growing  tendencies  to  se- 
crecy and  ciphers  need  not,  therefore,  be  wondered  at 
during  and  immediately  following  this  transition  period. 
These  men  have  been  truly  called  the  first  race  of  English 
statesmen,  prominent  among  whom  were  Sir  William 
Cecil — in  other  words,  Lord  Burghley,  the  mentioned 
uncle,  and  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  the  father  of  him  concern- 
ing whose  life  and  doings  we  purpose  investigation.     The 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  123 

father.  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  as  lord  keeper,  held  the  great 
seal  of  England  during  the  first  twenty  years  of  Queen 
Elizabeth's  reign  and  until  his  death,  in  1579.  As  a  states- 
man he  is  said  to  have  been  remarkable  for  clear  thought 
and  wise  counsel.  Ue  was  knighted  early  in  Elizabeth's 
reign,  and  at  the  same  time  was  made  one  of  her  privy  coun- 
cil, and  had,  it  is  said,  a  considerable  share  in  the  settlement 
of  ecclesiastical  questions.  He  was  born  at  Chislehurst, 
in  Kent,  in  1510,  and  so  prior  to  the  mentioned  investiga- 
tions by  Luther.  He  was  educated  at  Cambridge,  one  of 
England's  two  great  national  seats  of  learning,  and  where 
he  afterward  educated  his  sons,  Anthony  and  Francis,  and 
in  which,  as  opposed  to  Oxford,  were  educated  those  states- 
men to  whom  is  chiefly  due  the  secure  establishment  of 
the  Reformed  faith. 

After  leaving  the  university,  he,  as  did  later  his  son 
Francis,  travelled  for  a  time  in  France,  where  he  made 
some  considerable  stay  at  Paris.  Upon  his  return  he 
settled  at  Gray's  Inn,  and  applying  himself  to  the  law, 
soon  gained  distinction,  and  at  the  age  of  thirty-seven,  in 
the  last  year  of  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  he  was 
appointed  to  the  office  of  the  court  of  wards,  in  which  office 
he  was  continued  by  Edward  the  Sixth. 

In  1552  he  was  elected  treasurer  of  Gray's  Inn. 
Earlier  and  upon  the  dissolution  of  the  monastery  of  St. 
Edmundsbury,  in  Suffolk,  in  1545,  he  received  a  grant 
of  several  manors  from  the  king.  During  the  dangerous 
reign  of  Queen  Mary  he  exercised  much  prudence  and  mod- 
eration, and  became,  as  stated,  Elizabeth's  first  lord 
keeper,  having  succeeded  Sir  Nicholas  Heath,  Archbishop 
of  York. 

During  his  term  of  office  he,  on  one  occasion,  provoked 
the  royal  displeasure,  was  deprived  of  his  seat  at  the  council 
table,  and  it  was  even  thought  to  deprive  him  of  the  seal. 
It  arose  from  the  thought  that  he  had  assisted  Hales,  the 
clerk  of  the  hanaper,  in  his  book  on  the  succession,  pub- 
lished in  1564,  in  which  Hales  sought,  following  the  reign 
of  Elizabeth,  to  sustain  the  claims  to  the  crown  of  Lady 
Catherine  Grey,  second  sister  of  Lady  Jane  Grey,  who  was 
a  claimant  at  the  death  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  though  he 
opposed  those  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  whom  the  Catholic 
party  regarded  as  lawfully  entitled  to  the  crown  instead  of 
Elizabeth  ;  Elizabeth  under  their  claims  being  illegitimate 


124  RELATIONAL   FACTS. 

by  reason  of  the  nullity  of  her  father's  divorce  from  Cath- 
erine of  Aragon  without  the  Pope's  consent,  as  already 
mentioned,  and  for  whose  destruction  they  are  said  in 
various  ways  to  have  plotted  during  her  reign.  The  men- 
tioned Scotch  Queen  Mary  was  a  daughter  of  James  the 
Fifth  of  Scotland,  who  was  fruit  of  the  already  alluded- to 
marriage  between  the  eldest  sister  of  Henry  the  Eighth 
and  James  the  Fourth  of  Scotland,  and  from  which  mar- 
riage have  sprung  all  the  sovereigns  of  Great  Britain  fol- 
lowing the  reign  of  Elizabeth  to  the  accession  of  George 
the  First,  in  1714,  since  which  the  House  of  Hanover  has 
ruled  to  the  present  time.  By  her  maternal  uncles,  re- 
siding in  France,  as  well  as  by  the  King  of  France,  where 
she  had  been  educated  in  the  Catholic  faith,  she  had  early 
in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  been  induced  to  assume  the  arms 
and  title  of  Queen  of  England,  as  well  as  of  Scotland,  and 
in  opposition  to  the  succession  fixed  by  consent  of  Parlia- 
ment upon  the  heirs  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  as  mentioned, 
and  reatfirmed  by  Parliament  as  to  Elizabeth  at  her  ac- 
cession ;  and  thus  may  be  seen  the  relation  of  the  Queen  of 
Scots  to  the  times. 

Upon  the  opening  of  Parliament  in  1571  Sir  Nicholas 
Bacon,  as  lord  keeper,  made  a  somewhat  eloquent  speech, 
wherein  he  commented  upon  the  past  blessing  of  the 
queen,  the  setting  at  liberty  of  God's  Word,  the  de- 
liverance from  Roman  tyranny,  the  inestimable  benefits  of 
peace,  and  the  clemency  of  the  government.  That  this 
peace  had  been  disturbed  he  imputed  to  Roman  interfer- 
ence, and  this  is  made  the  prelude  to  the  first  statute  of 
the  session,  and  which  made  it  treason  to  set  forth  that 
the  queen  ought  not  to  possess  the  crown,  but  some  other 
person,  or  to  affirm  that  she  is  a  heretic,  schismatic, 
tjrant,  infidel,  or  usuper.  Another  clause  of  the  act  was 
even  more  particularly  directed  against  the  Queen  of  Scots, 
enacting  tliat  all  persons  of  any  degree,  nature,  or  estate 
who  during  the  queen's  life  should  claim  title  to  the 
crown  should  be  disabled  from  inheriting  the  same,  and 
that  any  claiming  the  right  of  succession  contrary  to  any 
proclamation  in  the  matter  that  might  be  issued  by  the 
queen  should  be  declared  guilty  of  high  treason. 

The  strange,  if  not  criminal  conduct  of  the  Queen  of 
Scots,  concerning  the  death  of  her  husband,  and  otherwise, 
had  so  exasperated  the  opposition  of  her  Protestant  nobles 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  125 

that  she  in  1567  was  compelled  to  resign  her  crown  of 
Scotland  in  favor  of  her  infant  son,  James,  who,  as  stated, 
thus  became  James  the  Sixth  of  Scotland,  and  following 
the  death  of  Elizabeth,  James  the  First  of  England.  She 
had  been  twice  married,  first  to  the  Dolphin  of  France 
and  later  to  her  profligate  cousin,  Lord  Darnley,  the  father 
of  James.  Following  her  resignation  and  some  ten 
months'  imprisonment  she  made  her  escape,  and  having 
gathered  a  force  of  some  six  thousand  men,  she  was  de- 
feated, and  fled  into  England  for  protection,  and  where  for 
many  years  she  was  held  in  custody  by  reason  (1)  of  alleged 
crimes  ;  (2)  because  any  extended  protection  would,  it  was 
thought,  be  regarded  by  Scotland  as  an  espousal  of  her 
cause  ;  and  (3)  doubtless  by  reason  of  fear  from  her  alleged 
claims  to  the  crown  of  England. 

The  wife  of  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon  by  a  second  marriage 
and  mother  of  Francis  was  one  of  the  accomplished 
daughters  of  Sir  Anthony  Cook,  a  man  of  distinguished 
learning,  who  had  been  tutor  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  and 
who  was  deep  in  the  mysteries  of  the  reforming  party. 
Mildred,  her  sister,  was  wife  to  Lord  Burghley,  also  by  a 
second  marriage,  and  thus  was  Burghley  uncle  to  Sir 
Francis  Bacon. 

Anne,  his  mother,  a  stanch  Puritan,  was  distinguished 
both  as  a  linguist  and  as  a  theologian.  She  was  not  only 
an  accomplished  Ureek  and  Latin  scholar,  but  employed 
much  time  in  the  translation  of  different  works.  Bishop 
Jewel's  great  work,  which  stated  the  then  theology  of  the 
Church  of  England,  as  against  the  Koman  faith,  and  en- 
titled The  Apology,  was  translated  by  her,  and  it  is  said 
with  great  exactjiess.  Being  interested  in  the  works  of 
Bernardino  Ochino,  an  Italian  reformer,  she  translated 
from  the  Tuscan  a  series  of  his  sermons  on  fate  and  free 
will.  Ochino  was  anathematized  alike  by  Wittenberg, 
Geneva,  Zurich,  and  Rome,  from  which  the  Socinian  sect 
derived  its  origin.  Note  the  mention  of  the  word  Witten- 
berg in  the  play  of  Hamlet.  This  work  upon  the  writings 
of  Ochino  is  somewhat  suggestive,  in  many  ways,  in  the 
light  of  work  afterward  performed  by  her  illustrious  son. 

Ochino  was  born  at  Siena  in  1447,  and  died  in  1564. 
For  a  more  particular  description  than  we  may  here  give, 
see  Britannica.  Somewhat  late  in  life  he,  from  persecu- 
tion, found  an  asylum  in  England,  where  he  not  only  re- 


126  RELATIONAL   FACTS. 

ceived  a  pension  from  the  privy  purse  of  Edward  the  Sixth, 
but  was  made  a  prebendary  of  Canterbury,  and  here  com- 
posed his  capital  work  entitled  The  Tragedy. 

The  English  stage  at  this  period  may  be  said  to  have 
been  but  in  its  infancy.  The  plays  attributed  to  Shake- 
speare, whoever  may  have  been  their  author,  had  not  as 
yet  been  conceived,  nor  had  the  real  drama  yet  matured. 
The  moral  plays  had  but  taken  the  place  of  the  miracle 
plays  in  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Sixth.  They  were  per- 
formed by  persons  representing  qualities  such  as  virtue, 
vice,  etc. 

The  mentioned  production  by  Ochino  was  written  in 
Latin,  and  is  said  to  be  extant  only  in  the  translation  of 
Bishop  Ponet.  It  took  form  as  a  series  of  dialogues,  and 
is  said  to  be  highly  dramatic,  and  to  bear  so  remarkable  a 
resemblance  to  Milton's  Paradise  Lost  that  it  is  thought 
Milton,  who  is  said  to  have  sympathized  with  the  Italian 
reformers,  must  have  had  acquaintance  with  it. 

In  plot  it  is  as  follows  :  Lucifer,  enraged  at  the  spread 
of  Christ's  kingdom,  convokes  the  fiends  in  counsel,  and 
resolves  to  set  up  the  Pope  as  Antichrist.  Tiie  state,  rep- 
resented by  Phocas,'  the  Emperor  of  the  East  from  602  to 

^  In  the  introductory  matter  to  the  A.  D.  B.  Mask  we  have  :  "  The 
opinion,  therefore,  of  Lucan  we  utterly  dislike  and  repudiate  as  most 
absurd  : 

"  Depart  from  Court,  if  Ihou  wilt  pious  be 
Goodness  and  Greatness  will  not,  there,  agree. 
"It  is  a  flash,  a  gew-gaw,  a  mere  frivolous  tritle,  unless  we  have 
respect  only  to  those  Monsters  of  men  Tiberius,  Caligula,  Claudius, 
Nero,  Julian  the  Apostate,  Phocas,  and  such  like  firebrands  of  fury, 
and  patrons  of  impiety  ;  Never  casting  our  eyes  upon,  nor  rightly 
recogitating  the  most  noble  and  renowned  actions  of  those  truly 
pious  and  prudent  Courtiers,  the  most  profitable  and  comfortable 
organs  and  instruments  both  of  Church  and  Commonwealth  ;  in  the 
number  of  whom  I  may  first  rank  the  most  pious  Patriarch  Joseph, 
who  at  Court  became  the  Prince  and  prime  of  all  his  Brethren,  the 
Establisher  of  his  people — yea,  the  very  Basis,  and  (under  God)  the 
Atlas  of  his  Nation  ;  to  whom  I  add  Moses,  Abdias,  Dtivid,  Daniel, 
and  Mordocai,  who,  with  great  prudence  and  providence,  having 
waded  through  and  vanquished  the  various  storms  and  jeopardous 
casualties  of  the  turbulent  sea  (as  I  may  so  say)  of  the  court  ;  have 
even  therein  most  gloriously  achieved  the  eminent  and  ever  perma- 
nent renown  and  excellency  of  virtue,  wit,  dignity,  and  perfect 
piety — yea,  and  have  shown  themselves  the  main  props  and  pillars 
of  the  Church  of  God,  and  their  Weal-public."  In  this  quotation 
note  the  Baconian  use  of  the  words  "  providence"  and  "  Atlas,"  and 
found  in  our  mentioned  Head-light. 


RELATIONAL   FACTS,  127 

610,  is  persuaded  to  connive  at  the  Pope's  assumption  of 
spiritual  authority.  The  other  churches  are  intimidated 
into  acquiescence,  and  Lucifer's  projects  seem  fully  ac- 
complished when  Heaven  raised  up  Henry  the  Eighth  and 
his  son  for  their  overthrow. 

Upon  the  accession  of  Mary,  Ochino  was  driven  from 
England.  His  work  entitled  The  Labyrintli  is  said  to  be 
among  the  most  important  of  his  works,  and  is  a  dis- 
cussion upon  the  freedom  of  the  will,  and  in  which  Cal- 
vin's doctrine  of  predestination  is  covertly  assailed.  In 
The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  in  the  Serious  Reflections  of  Eob- 
inson  Crusoe,  in  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  in  Hamlet, 
and,  in  fact,  in  all  of  the  works  under  review  where  occa- 
sion presents,  the  tangled  doctrine  of  predestination  is 
most  carefully  and  adroitly  touched  upon.  In  Hamlet, 
Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  291,  we  have  : 

"  But,  orderly  to  end  where  I  begun, — ' 
Our  wills  aud  fates  do  so  contrary  run, 
That  our  devices  still  are  overthrown  ; 
Our  thoughts  are  ours,  their  ends  none  of  our  own  •} 

Bacon  entitled  the  fourth  part  of  his  Great  Instauration 
the  "  Scaling  Ladder  of  the  Intellect  ;  or.  Thread  of  the 
Labyrinth." 

In  1563  Ochino's  Thirty  Dialogues  were  published, 
whereupon  a  storm  of  obloquy  burst  upon  him,  from  which 
he  was  never  able  to  recover.  It  was  claimed  that  in  one 
of  these  he  justified  polygamy  under  the  color  of  a  pre- 
tended refutation.  His  dialogue  on  Divorce  was  also 
held  obnoxious,  as  were  those  upon  the  Trinity.     No  ex- 

'  This  distinctive  expression  "to  end  where  I  begun"  was  Ba- 
conian, and  in  the  De  Augmentis,  ch.  2,  book  8,  he  says  :  "  For  he 
must  have  a  lucky  and  a  happy  genius  to  guide  him  who  shall  at- 
tempt to  make  the  axioms  of  sciences  convertible,  and  shall  not  withal 
make  them  circular,  or  returning  into  themselves." 

'  And  in  the  same  play,  Act  v.,  sc.  2,  p.  369,  we  have  : 

"  Hor.  If  your  mind  dislike  any  thing,  obey  it  :  I  will  forestal 
their  repair  hither,  and  say  you  are  not  fit. 

"  Ham.  Not  a  whit,  we  defy  augury  :  there  is  a  special  providence 
in  the  fall  of  a  sparrow.  If  it  be  now,  'tis  not  to  come  ;  if  it  be  not 
to  come,  it  will  be  now  ;  if  it  be  not  now,  yet  it  will  come  :  the 
readiness  is  all.  Since  no  man  of  aught  he  leaves  knows,  what  is't 
to  leave  betimes  ?    Let  be." 

In  early  years  Bacon  was  unquestionably  a  close  reader  of  Calvin, 
who  manifested  a  considerable  interest,  at  one  time,  in  Ochino. 


I'M  RELATIONAL    FACTS. 

planations  were  permitted,  and  he,  then  at  Zurich,  was 
obliged  to  take  refuge  in  flight,  and  he  seems  no  longer  to 
have  been  sustained  anywhere. 

These  works  are  thought  to  have  had  an  influence  upon 
Milton.  We  think  them  to  have  had  an  early  influence 
upon  Bacon,  and  figured  forth  in  his  Bunyan's  Holy  War, 
his  Defoe's  History  of  the  Devil,  Conjugal  Lewdness, 
Roxana,  Moll  Flanders,  etc.,  as  well  as  in  his  Shakespeare 
and  in  his  generally  attributed  writings,  as  none  of  the 
distinctive  views  of  Ochino's  times  escaped  him,  and  more 
especially  as  his  strictly  Puritan  mother  was  early  inter- 
ested in  their  translation. 

Lust  as  a  motive  is  made  prominent  in  every  branch  of 
this  literature,  and  by  that  individuality  of  handling, 
which  shows  its  products  to  be  from  but  one  mind,  and 
that  mind  Bacon's.  It  is  in  its  eflects  everywhere  brought 
to  but  the  one  issue,  and  nowhere  more  tersely  or  more 
beautifully  expressed,  perhaps,  than  in  the  Venus  and  Ado- 
nis, the  claimed  first  product  from  Shakespeare's  pen,  but 
dedicated  to  Southampton,  Bacon's  early  associate  at 
Gray's  Inn,  and  from  which  we  quote  as  follows  : 

"  Love  comforteth  like  sunshine  after  rain, 
But  lust's  effect  is  tempest  after  sun; 
Love's  gentle  spring  doth  always  fresh  remain. 
Lust's  winter  comes  ere  summer  half  be  done  ; 
Love  surfeits  not,  lust  like  a  glutton  dies  ; 
Love  is  all  truth,  lust  full  of  forged  lies."  ' 

See  these  effects  vividly  pictured  in  the  Anatomy  of 
Melancholy,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  345-351,  and  in  earlier  pages 
is  shown  the  dalliance,  delight,  and  dotage  of  love,  or 
rather  of  lust :  as  it  is  said  of  love  "  'tis  nature's  crown, 
and  gold,  and  glory."     And  in  Sonnet  116  we  have  : 

"  Let  me  not  to  the  marriage  of  true  minds 
Admit  impediments  :  love  is  not  love. 
Which  alters  when  it  alteration  finds, 
Or  bends  with  the  remover  to  remove  : 

^  Bacon's  essay  entitled  "  Of  Love"  opens  in  these  words  :  "  The 
stage  is  more  beholden  to  love  than  the  life  of  man  ;  for  as  to  the 
stage,  love  is  even  matter  of  comedies,  and  now  and  then  of  tragedies  ; 
but  in  life  it  doth  much  mischief  ;  sometimes  like  a  siren,  sometimes 
like  a  fury."  And  it  ends  thus  :  "  Nuptial  love  raaketh  mankind  ; 
friendly  love  perfecteth  it  ;  but  wanton  love  corrupteth  and  em- 
basetli  it."  Note  here  Bacon's  word  "siren"  and  the  use  of  that 
word  in  Sonnet  119,  p.  28. 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  139 

O,  no  !  it  is  an  ever-fixed  mark, 

That  looks  on  tempests,  and  is  never  shaken  ; 

It  is  the  star  to  every  wandering  bark, 

Whose  worth's  unknown,  although  his  height  be  taken. 

Love's  not  Time's  fool,  though  rosy  lips  and  cheeks 

Within  his  bending  sickle's  compass  come  ; 

Love  alters  not  with  his  brief  hours  and  weeks. 

But  bears  it  out  even  to  the  edge  of  doom. 

If  this  be  error,  and  upon  me  proy'd, 

I  never  writ,  nor  no  man  ever  lov'd. 

After  love  has  been  o'ertlirown,  corrupted,  or  fallen,  it 
is  in  the  mentioned  poem  said  : 

"  It  shall  be  fickle,  false,  and  full  of  fraud  ; 
Bud  and  be  blasted  in  a  breathing-while  ; 
The  bottom  poisoned,  and  the  top  o'erstraw  d' 
With  sweets,  that  shall  the  truest  sight  beguile  : 
The  strongest  body  shall  it  make  most  weak. 
Strike  the  wise  dumb,  and  teach  the  fool  to  speak." 

And  in  Sonnet  129  we  have  : 

"  Th'  expense  of  spirit^  in  a  waste  of  shame 
Is  lust  in  action  ;  and,   till  action,  lust 
Is  perjur'd.  murderous,  bloody,  full  of  blame, 
Savage,  extreme,  rude,  cruel,  not  to_ trust  ; 
Enjoy'd  no  sooner  but  despised  straight ; 
Past  reason  hunted,  and  no  sooner  had. 
Past  reason  hated,  as  a  swallow'd  bait. 
On  purpose  laid  to  make  the  taker  mad  : 
Mad  in  pursuit,  and  in  possession  so  ; 
Had,  having,  and  in  quest  to  have,  extreme  ; 
A  bliss  in  proof,  and,  prov'd,  a  very  woe  ; 
Before,  a  joy  propos'd  ;  behind,  a  dream  : 
All  this  the  world  well  knows  ;  yet  none  knows  well 
To  shun  the  heaveu  that  leads  men  to  this  hell."^ 

»  Note  throughout  these  various  works,  and  particularly  in  the 
Shakespeare  writings,  the  use  of  this  word  "straw"  and  the  fol- 
lowing Baconian  notes  concerning  the  word  :  ^^^      .  ,    ^     . 

Promus  108.  Best  we  lay  a  straw  here.  Pro.,  596.  An  ass  s  trot 
and  a  fire  of  straw.  Pro.,  677.  To  stumble  over  a  straw  and  leap 
over  a  block.  Pro.,  731.  To  judge  the  corn  by  the  straw.  In  The 
Tempest,  Act  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  80,  we  have  :  "  The  strongest  oaths  are 
straw  to  fire  in  the  blood."  See  The  Pilgrinis  Progress  p  284, 
as  to  straws  and  the  muck-rake.  In  Bacon  s  Philosophical  Works, 
vol  ii.  p  447,  he  says  that  "  hay  and  straw  have  a  very  low  degree 
of  heat   but  yet  close  and  smothering,  and  which  drieth  not.  ' 

2  I  think  the  reader  will  agree  with  us  in  saying  that  the  expres- 
sion "expense  of  spirit,"  as  here  used,  is  distinctive  and  unusual. 
We  will  in  some  further  relations  soon  to  be  introduced  show  whence 
it  had  its  origin.  f^-i    *  ii„ 

»  Read,  please,  in  this  connection  Bacon's  interpretation  of  the  fable 

5 


130  RELATIONAL    FACTS. 

Hudson's  introduction  to  the  Venus  and  Adonis,  p.  6, 
closes  in  these  words  : 

"  Shakespeare  has  here  represented  the  animal  impulse 
itself,  so  as  to  preclude  all  sympathy  with  it,  by  dissipating 
the  reader's  notice  among  the  thousand  outward  images, 
and  now  beautiful,  now  fanciful  circumstances,  which 
forms  its  dress  and  scenery  ;  or  by  diverting  our  attention 
from  the  main  subject  by  those  frequent  witty  or  profound 
reflection,  which  the  poet's  ever-active  mind  has  deduced 
from,  or  connected  with  the  imagery  and  the  incidents. 
The  reader  is  forced  into  too  much  action  to  sympathize 
with  the  merely  passive  of  our  nature.  As  little  can 
a  mind  thus  roused  and  awakened  be  brooded  on  by 
mean  and  indistinct  emotion,  as  the  low,  lazy  mist  can 
creep  upon  the  surface  of  a  lake  while  a  strong  gale  is  driv- 
ing it  onward  in  waves  and  billows."  And  see  Hudson's 
quotation  from  Coleridge,  with  which  he  closes  his  intro- 
duction to  the  Eape  of  Lucrece,  by  Tarquin.  Tarquin 
was  the  seventh  king  from  Romulus,  the  founder  of  the 
Eoman  State,  and  whose  son  ravished  Lucretia.  The 
father  espoused  the  son,  and  Avas  deposed,  the  monarchy 
dissolved,  and  the  Roman  Government  turned  into  at  first 
the  best  regulated  commonwealth  the  world  has  seen. 
See  these  facts,  please,  in  the  notes  to  Book  8  of  Defoe's 
Jure  Divino. 

In  the  poems,  as  in  the  plays  and  elsewhere  m  this 
literature,  the  mind,  the  attention,  is  first  focalized  by 
entertainment  and  until  caught  and  stayed  by  reflection. 
The  philosophy  of  Bacon  has  indeed  been  truly  called  the 
poetry  of  philosophy,  and  in  sex  it  finds  an  all-powerful 
evolving  centre — the  centre  of  final  causes,  the  "  virgin 
consecrated  to  God,''  or,  as  Spencer  has  it,  the  field  of  the 

entitled  "  Dionysus  ;  or,  Desire."  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  349, 
we  have  :  "  Who  could  liave  thought  that  any  one  could  so  far  be 
blinded  by  the  power  of  lust?"  On  p.  324  :  "And  to  the  boys 
he  said,  Do  you  fly  youthful  lusts,  and  follow  after  godliness  with 
them  that  are  grave  and  wise."  As  to  the  expression  "  fly  lusts,"  we 
from  Hamlet,  Act  iv.,  sc.  7,  p.  336,  quote  :  "  Let  the  king  have  the 
letters  I  have  sent  ;  and  repair  thou  to  me  with  as  much  haste  as 
thou  would'st  fly  death."  We  find  Bacon  making  use  of  such  ex- 
pressions as  "  flight  of  the  spirits,"  "  fly  to  their  ends,"  "  fly  in  the 
face."  etc.  In  Addison,  vol.  vi.,  p.  604,  we  have  :  "  Instances  of 
this  abound  even  in  those  copies  of  their  verses  that  are  writ  the 
most  in  the  spirit  of  lewdness  (as  superstition  hath  ever  been  an 
especial  bawd  to  lust)". 


KELATIONAL   FACTS.  131 

"  Unknowable."     In  connection  with  these  thoughts  see, 
please,  Bacon's  interpretation  of  the  fable  entitled  "  Cupid 
or  an  Atom"  and  his  article  entitled  *'  Of  the  Principles 
and  Origins  of  Nature  According  to  the  Fable  of  Cupid 
and  Heaven."     (Works,  vol.  i.,  pp.  298,  435.)      In   his 
article  entitled  "  Thoughts  on  the  Nature  of  Things," 
same  volume,  p.  408,  he  says  :  "  And  I  know  not  but  the 
investigations  we  are  now  handling,  of  the  primary  char- 
acter of  seminal  and  atomic  particles,  is  of  a  unity  greatly 
superior  to  all  others  whatsoever,  as  forming  the  sover- 
eign' rule  of  action  and  of  power  and  the  true  criterion  of 
hope  and  operation.'"      Beneath  the  fables  in  Bacon's 
"Wisdom  of  the  Ancients"  are  spread  subtle  principles 
of  his  philosophy,  and  concerning  which  Mr.  Spedding 
says:    "In   July,  1608,  remembering   that  a  prophet  is 
not  without  honour  except  in  his  own  country,  he  was 
considering    the    expediency    of    beginning   to   print   in 
France.     And  about  the  same  time  the  idea  of  shadowing 
himself  under  the  darkness  of  antiquity  seems  to  have  ac- 
corded to  him  ;  for  I  am  much  inclined  to  think  that  it 
was  some  such  consideration  which  induced  him,  in  1609, 
to  bring  out  his  little  book  De  Sapieniia  Veterum  ;  where, 
fancying  that  some  of  the  cardinal  principles  of  his  own 
philosophy  lay  hid  in  the  oldest  Greek  fables,  he  took  ad- 
vantage of  the  circumstance  to  bring  them  forward  under 
the  sanction   of   that  ancient  prescription,  and  so  made 
those  fables  serve  partly   as  pioneers  to  prepare  his  way 
and  partly  as  auxiliaries  to  enforce  his  authority."    (Phil. 
Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  174.) 

In  his  interpretation  of  the  fable  "  Pan  ;  or,  Nature, 
De  Augmentis,  Book  2,  ch.  13,  p.  100,  he  says  : 

"  This  fable  is,  perhaps,  the  noblest  of  all  antiquity, 
and  pregnant  with  the   mysteries  and  secrets  of  nature. 

'Note  Bacon's  use  of  the  word  "sovereign,"  as  "sovereign 
rule,"  "sovereign  honour,"  "sovereign  remedy;"  and  in  the 
Venusand  Adonis  we  have  "sovereign  salve."  Bacon  says  :  "For, 
in  my  judgment,  it  would  be  an  opinion  more  flattering  than  true, 
to  think  any  medicine  can  be  so  sovereign  or  so  happy  as  that 
the  simple  use  of  it  can  work  any  great  cure." 

2  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  123,  we  have  :  And  first  they 
had  him  into  i\\e  study,  where  they  showed  him  records  of  tlie  great- 
est antiquity  ;  in  which,  as  I  remember  my  dream,  they  showed 
him  the  pedigree  of  the  Lord  of  the  hill,  he  was  the  Son  of  the 
Ancient  of  days,  and  came  by  eternal  generation." 


132  EELATIOKAL  PACTS. 

Pan,  as  the  name  imports,  represents  the  universe,  about 
whose  origin  there  are  two  opinions — viz.,  that  it  either 
sprung  from  Mercury' — that  is,  the  Divine  word,  according 
to  the  fScriptures  and  philosophical  divines  ;  or  from  the 
confused  seeds  of  things  ;  for  some  of  the  philosophers 
held  that  the  seeds  and  elements  of  nature  were  infinite  in 
their  substance  ;  whence  arose  the  opinion  of  homogene- 
ous primary  parts,  which  Anaxagoras  either  invented  or 
propagated.  Others,  more  accurately,  maintain  that  the 
variety  of  nature  can  equally  spring  from  seeds,  certain 
and  definite  in  substance,  but  only  diversified  in  form  and 
figure,  and  attribute  the  remaining  varieties  to  the  interior 
organization  of  the  seeds  themselves.  From  this  source 
the  doctrine  of  atoms  is  derived,  which  Democritus  main- 
tained and  Leucippus  found  out.  But  others  teach  only 
one  principle  of  nature — Thales,  water  ;  Anaximenes,  air  ; 
Heraclitus,  fire  ; — and  defined  this  principle,  which  is  one 
in  act,  to  be  various  and  dispensable  in  powers,  and  involv- 
ing the  seeds  of  all  natural  essences.  They  who  intro- 
duced, as  Aristotle  and  Plato,  primordial  matter  every 
way  disarranged,  shapeless,  and  indifferent  to  any  form, 
approached  nearer  to  a  resemblance  of  the  figure  of  the 
parable  ;  for  they  conceived  matter  as  a  courtezan  and 
the  forms  as  suitors  ;  so  tliat  the  whole  dispute  comes  to 
these  two  points — viz.,  either  tliat  nature  proceeds  from 
Mercury  or  from  Penelope'  and  all  her  suitors."  ^ 

'  Promus.  545.  A  Mercury  cannot  be  made  of  every  wood  (but 
Priapus  may.)  (Ne  e  quoris  ligno  Mercurius  fiat. — [Er.  Ad.  499] — 
i.e.,  A  dullard  will  never  make  a  sage.)  As  to  the  use  of  this  word 
"  Priapus,"  we,  from  the  play  of  Pericles,  Act  iv.,  sc.  6,  p.  359, 
quote  thus  : 

"  Bawd.  Fie,  fie  upon  her  !  she  is  able  to  freeze  the  god  Pria- 
pus, and  undo  a  whole  generation  :  we  must  either  get  herravish'd, 
or  be  rid  of  her." 

^  Promus,  781.  Penelope's  web  (Penelopes  telam  retexere. — 
Eras.  Ad.  156.)    In  Coriolanus,  Act  i.,  sc.  3,  p.  170,  we  have  : 

"  Val.  You  would  be  another  Penelope  :  j'et  they  say  all  the  yarn 
she  spun  in  Ulysses'  absence  did  but  fill  Ithaca  full  of  moths." 

In  Addison,  vol.  v.,  p.  172,  we  have  : 

"  Vcl.  But  her  character  is  unblemished.  She  has  been  as  virtu- 
ous in  j'our  absence  as  a  Penelope — 

"  Sir  Geo.  And  has  had  as  many  suitors." 

■'  Bacon's  interpretation  of  this  fable,  Pan,  should  be  read  in  full. 
Pan  is  b3'  Webster  defined  thus  :  "  The  god  of  shepherds,  guardian 
of  bees,  and  patron  of  fishing  and  foAvling.  He  is  usually  repre- 
sented as  combining  the  forin  of  a  man  with  that  of  a  beast,  having 
the  body  of  a  man,  a  red  face  with  a  Hat  nose,  horns  upon  his  head, 


RELATIOKAL  FACTS. 


133 


Something  about  the  foregoing  recalls  these  lines  from 
Eichard  II.,'  Act  v.,  sc.  5,  p.  134  : 

"  I  have  been  studying  how  I  may  compare 

This  prison,  where  I  live,  unto  the  world  : 

And,  for  because  the  world  is  populous, 

And  here  is  not  a  creature  but  myself, 

I  cannot  do  it.— Yet  I'll  hammer 't  out. 

My  brain  I'll  prove  the  female  to  my  soul  ; 

My  soul,  the  father  ;  and  these  two  beget 

A  generation  of  still  breeding  thoughts. 

And  these  same  thoughts  people  this  little  world  ; 

In  humours  like  the  people  of  this  world, 

For  no  thought  is  contented." 
But  it  must  be  remembered  that  it  is  not  intended  that 
all  finely  expressed  thought  in  the  plays  should  represent 
Bacon's  grounded  conclusions.  In  order  truly  to 
represent  the  platform— that  is,  the  present  stage  ot 
being,  he  makes  his  characters  say  wlfat  he  will,  and  what 
men  himself  included,  do  everywhere  say  ;  and  thus  to  his 
purposes  does  he  shape  and  sho^v  subtle  ends  or  the  events 
from  which  they  may  flow.  nno    o 

In  his  mentioned  "  Cupid,  or  an  Atom,"  p.  298,  Bacon 
represents  both  the  coming  of  the  egg,  and  the  motion  by 
which  it  comes,  as  veiled  by  Nox,  or  in  night,  and  says  : 
"  This  fable  tends  and  looks  to  the  cradle  of  nature,  love 
seemino-  to  be  the  appetite  or  desire  of  the  first  matter,  or, 
to  speak  more  plain,  the  natural  motion  of  the  atom, 
which  is  that  ancient  and  only  power  that  forms  and 
fashions  all  things  out  of  matter,  of  which  there  is_  no 
parent— that  is  to  say,  no  cause,  seeing  every  cause  is  a 
parent  to  its  effect.  Of  this  power  or  virtue  there  can  be 
no  cause  in  nature,  as  for  God  we  always  except  him,  for 
nothing  was  before  it,  and  therefore  no  efficient  cause  ot 
it."  ' 

and  the  legs,  thighs,  tail,  and  feet  of  a  goat."  _  Note  in  the  plays 
the  use  of  the  'words  horns,  thighs,  legs,  etc  m  connection  wUh 
the  same  words  in  Bacon's  Pr(*mus  notes.  In  Lear,  Act  ii.,  sc  4  p 
475  we  have  :  "  Horses  are  tied  by  the  heads,  dogs  and  bears  by  the 
neciv  monkeys  by  the  loins,  and  men  by  the  legs  :  when  a  man  is 
over-lusty  at  legs,  then  he  wears  wooden  nether-stocks. 

1  Let  these  thoughts  be  read  in  coimectiou  with  our  quotations 
from  the  Defoe  work  entitled  "The  Storm."  t   „  ^f 

"-  Note  in  the  Venus  and  Adonis  and  in  the  plays  the  couching  ot 
desire  under  Nox  or  in  night.  In  the  mentioned  article  concern- 
ing "Cupid;  or,  Heaven"  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  v..  p.  463  and 
465)    Bacon   says:    "It   has   been    said,  then,  that   the  primitive 


13-i  RELATIONAL   FACTS. 

To  this  thought  we  may  add  that  the  evolution  or  com- 
ing, not  only  of  all  external  forms  in  nature,  but  of  all 
subjective  ideation  to  consciousness,  is  ever  from  out  the 
unseen.  Even  our  words— the  body  in  which  ideation 
takes  objective  condition — are,  when  wholly  impromptu, 
born  instantly  in  the  mind  upon  the  utterance,  we  being 
unable  for  the  slightest  moment  in  advance  of  the  words 
used  while  speaking,  to  think  or  know  what  word  we  will 
next  make  use  of  until  its  birth  in  the  mind  at  the  moment 
of  utterance.  So  also  the  difficult  point  to  be  overcome 
or  reached  in  all  great  inventions,  when  it  comes,  comes 
ever  suddenly,  and  but  as  a  flash  of  light,  the  will  having 
in  it  no  part,  save  the  holding  of  the  mental  energies  in 
the  direction  from  which  spontaneity  is  sought.  Nor  can 
we  tell  why  present  thought  was  not  born  to  us  at  some 
earlier  or  later  moment. 

Bacon  in  the  last-mentioned  article,  p.  299,  further 
says  :  "  The  Greek  philosophers  are  observed  to  be  very 
acute  and  diligent  in  searching  out  the  material  principles 
of  things  ;  but  in  the  beginnings  of  motion,  wherein  con- 
sists all  the  efficacy  of  operation,  they  are  negligent  and 
weak,  and  in  this  that  we  handle,  they  seem  to  be  alto- 
gether blind  and  stammering  ;  for  the  opinion  of  the  Peri- 
patetics concerning  the  appetite  of  matter  caused  by  priva- 
tion is  in  a  manner  nothing  else  but  words,  which  rather 
sound  than  signify  any  reality." 

Bacon  everywhere  emphasizes  the  subject  of  motion,  and 
watched  diligently  its  beginnings.  In  vol.  iv.,  p.  257,  of 
his  Philosophical  Works,  he  says  :  "  Among  the  parts  of 

essence,  force  and  desire  of  thinnjs  has  no  cause.  How  it  proceeded, 
having  no  cause,  is  now  to  be  considered.  Now,  the  manner  is  itself 
also  very  obscure,  and  of  this  we  are  warned  by  the  parable,  where 
Cupid  is  elegantly  feigned  to  come  of  an  egg  which  was  laid  by 
Nox.  .  .  .  Now,  that  point  concerning  the  egg  of  Nox  bears  a  most 
apt  reference  to  the  demonstrations  by  which  this  Cupid  is  brought 
to  light.  For  things  concluded  by  affirmatives  may  be  considered 
as  the  offspring  of  light  ;  whereas  those  concluded  by  negatives 
and  exclusions  are  extorted  and  educed,  as  it  were,  out  of  darkness 
and  night.  Now  this  Cupid  is  truly  an  egg  hatched  bj'  Nox  ;  for 
all  the  knowledge  of  him  which  is  to  be  had  proceeds  by  exclusions 
and  negatives  ;  and  proof  made  by  exclusion  is  a  kind  of  ignorance 
and,  as  it  were,  night,  with  regard  to  the  thing  included.  .  .  .  Let 
us  now  proceed  to  Cupid  himself —that  is,  primitive  matter,  together 
with  its  properties,  which  are  surrounded  by  so  dark  a  night,  and 
see  what  light  the  parable  throws  upon  this." 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  135 

history  which  I  have  mentioned,  the  history  of  Arts  is  of 
most  use,  because  it  exhibits  things  in  motion,  and  leads 
more  directly  to  practice.  Moreover,  it  takes  off  the  mask 
and  veil  from  natural  objects,  which  are  commonly  con- 
cealed and  obscured  under  the  variety  of  shapes  and  ex- 
ternal appearance.  Finally,  the  vexations  of  art  are 
certainly  as  the  bonds  and  handcuffs  of  Proteus,  which 
betray  the  ultimate  struggles  and  efforts  of  matter  ;  for 
bodies  will  not  be  destroyed  or  annihilated  ;  rather  than 
that,  they  will  turn  themselves  into  various  forms."  And 
in  the  mentioned  fable  concerning  "  Pan  or  Nature,"  he 
says  :  "  Hence  one  of  the  moderns  has  ingeniously  reduced 
all  the  power  of  the  soul  to  motion,  noting  the  precipitancy 
of  some  of  the  ancients,  who,  fixing  their  thoughts  pre- 
maturely on  memory,  imagination,  and  reason,  have 
neglected  the  cogitative  faculty,  which,  however,  plays 
the  chief  role  in  the  work  of  conception.  For  he  that 
remembers,  cogitates,  as  likewise  he  who  fancies  or  rea- 
sons ;  so  that  the  soul  of  man  in  all  her  moods  dances  to 
the  musical  airs  of  the  cogitations,  which  is  that  rebound- 
ing of  the  Nymjjhs, "  ' 

The  investigation  of  motion  lies,  indeed,  at  the  very 
basis  of  Bacon's  subtle  views  concerning  forms,  and  in 
Aph.  51,  Book  1  of  the  Novum  Organum"  he  says  :  "  The 
human  understanding  is,  by  its  own  nature,  prone  to  ab- 
straction, and  supposes  that  which  is  fluctuating  to  be 
fixed.  But  it  is  better  to  dissect  than  abstract  nature  ; 
such  was  the  method  employed  by  the  school  of  Democritus, 

'  Concerning  Bacon's  "  places  of  invention"  and  the  "  park  and  deer" 
ot  the  Venus  and  Adonis,  we  quote  the  following  :  "  The  invention 
ot  arguments  is  not  properly  an  invention  ;  for  to  invent  is  to  dis- 
cover that  we  know  not,  not  to  recover  or  resummon  that  which  we 
already  know.  Now  the  use  and  office  of  this  invention  is  no  other 
than  out  of  the  mass  of  knowledge  which  is  collected  and  laid  up  in 
the  mmd  to  draw  forth  readily  that  which  may  be  pertinent  to  the 
matter  or  question  which  is  under  consideration.  For  to  liim  who 
has  httle  or  no  knowledge  on  the  subject  proposed,  places  of  in- 
vention are  of  no  service  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  he  who  is  ready 
provided  with  matter  applicable  to  the  point  in  question  will  even 
without  art  and  places  of  invention  (although  perhaps  not  so  expe- 
ditiously and  easily),  discover  and  produce  arguments.  So  (as  I  have 
said)  this  kind  of  invention  is  not  properly  an  invention  but  a  re- 
membrance or  suggestion  with  an  application.  Nevertheless  as  the 
name  has  come  into  use,  let  it  be  called  invention  ;  for  the  hunting 
of  any  wi  d  animal  may  be  called  a  finding  of  it.  as  well  in  an  en- 
closed park  as  in  a  forest  at  large. "     (Phil.   Works,  vol.  iv    p  421  ) 


136  KELATIONAL   FACTS. 

■which  made  greater  progress  in  penetrating  nature  than 
the  rest.  It  is  best  to  consider  matter,  its  confoimation, 
and  the  changes  of  that  conformation,  its  own  action,  and 
the  hiw  of  this  action  or  motion  ;  for  forms  are  a  mere 
fiction  of  the  human  mind,  unless  you  will  call  the  laws  of 
action  by  that  name." 

That  the  word  forms,  as  here  used,  is  not  intended  to 
apply  to  the  physiognomy  or  configuration  of  bodies,  but 
rather  to  the  discovery  of  laws  falling  within  and  proceeding 
from  them,  may  be  seen  in  Aphs.  2,  13,  and  17  of  Book 
2  of  the  work  mentioned  :  and  see  Aphs.  9,  15  and  18.  To 
discover  these  forms  was  the  object  of  his  tables,  and  these, 
as  stated,  were  the  centre  of  his  system,  and  which  he  applied 
as  well  to  mind  or  metaphysics,  as  to  physics.  See  Aph.  127, 
Book  1,  and  cpioted  in  this  work  at  p.  112.  As  to  those 
ideational  motions  that  concern  mind  itself  in  its  tenden- 
cies to  error,  see  the  Idols  of  the  Tribe,  Idols  of  the  Den, 
Idols  of  the  Market,  and  Idols  of  the  Theatre,  Aphs.  38- 
G3,  Book  1,  of  said  work. 

Bacon  to  himself  at  least  reduced  all  things  in  nature 
to  simplicity,  and  so  in  his  Interpretation  of  Nature 
(Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  80)  he  says  :  "  So  if  the  moral  philoso- 
phers, that  have  spent  such  an  infinite  quantity  of  debate 
touching  good  and  the  highest  good,  had  cast  their  eye 
abroad  upon  nature,  and  beheld  the  appetite  that  is  in  all 
things  to  receive  and  to  give — the  one  motion  affecting 
preservation,  and  the  other  multiplication — which  appe- 
tites are  most  evidently  seen  in  living  creatures,  in  the 
pleasure  of  nourishment  and  generation,  and  in  man  do 
make  the  aptest  and  most  natural  division  of  all  his  de- 
sires, being  either  of  sense  of  pleasure,  or  sense  of  power  ; 
and  in  the  universal  frame  of  the  world  are  figured,  the 
one  in  the  beams  of  heaven  which  issue  forth,  and  the 
other  in  the  lap  of  the  earth  which  takes  in  ;'  and  again, 

'  Bacon  evidently  expended  much  thought  upon  the  subject  of  sex, 
as  connected  with  the  source  or  origin  of  all  molecular  or  material 
change.  Note  this  subject  in  connection  with  his  mythology  or 
"  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients."  In  Aph.  27,  Book  2  of  the  Novum 
Organum,  he,  among  other  things  upon  this  subject,  saj's  :  "  Again, 
the  resemblance  and  conformity  of  man  to  an  inverted  plant  is  not 
absurd.  For  the  head  is  the  root  of  the  nerves  and  animal  facul- 
ties, and  the  seminal  parts  are  the  lowest,  not  including  the  extremi- 
ties of  the  legs  and  arms.  But  in  the  plant,  the  root  (which  resembles 
the  head),  is  regularly  placed  in  the  lowest,  and  the  seeds  in  the  high- 
est part." 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  137 

if  the}'  had  observed  the  motion  of  congrnity,  or  situation 
of  the  parts  in  respect  of  the  whole,  evident  in  so  many 
particulars  ;  and  lastly,  if  they  had  considered  the  motion, 
familiar  in  attraction  of  things,  to  approach  to  that  which 
is  higher  in  the  same  kind  :  when  by  these  observations, 
so  easy  and  concurring  in  natural  philosophy,  they  should 
have  found  out  this  quaternion  of  good,  in  enjoying  or 
fruition,  effecting  or  operation,  consenting  or  proportion, 
and  approach  or  assumption,  they  would  have  saved  and 
abridged  much  of  their  long  and  wandering  discourses  of 
pleasure,  virtue,  duty,  and  religion.  So  likewise  in  this 
same  logic  and  rhetoric,  or  acts  of  argument  and  grace  of 
speech,  if  the  great  masters  of  them  would  but  have  gone 
a  form  lower,  and  looked  but  into  the  observations  of 
grammar  concerning  the  kinds  of  words,  their  derivations, 
deflections,  and  syntax,  specially  enriching  the  same, 
•with  the  helps  of  several  languages,  with  their  differing 
properties  of  words,  phrases,  and  tropes,  they  might  have 
found  out  more  and  better  footsteps  of  common  reason, 
help  of  disputation,  and  advantages  of  cavillation,  than 
many  of  these  which  they  have  propounded.  So,  again, 
a  man  should  be  thought  to  dally  if  he  did  note  how  the 
figures  of  rhetoric  and  music  are  many  of  them  the  same. 
The  repetitions  and  traductions  in  speech,  and  the  reports 
and  hauntings  of  sounds  in  music,  are  the  very  same  things.' 
Plutarch  hath  almost  made  a  book  of  the  Lacedsemonian 
kind  of  jesting,  which  joined  everypleasure  with  distaste." 
Bacon's  thoughts  touching  the  subject  of  sex,  and  spread 
throughout  these  writings,  as  well  as  his  application  of  the 
word  "  V^enus"  thereto,  will  in  a  measure  appear  in  sub- 
divisions 693,  694,  and  695  of  his  Natural  History.  To 
two  of  these  we  give  place  as  follows  :  "  694.  The  pleasure 
in  the  act  of  Venus  is  the  greatest  of  the  pleasures  of  the 
senses  ;*  the  matching^  of  it  with  itch  is  improper  ;  though 

'  Let  the  Addison  articles  conceruing  music,  sounds,  and  language 
be  read  in  this  connection,  please. 

'■*  In  the  Anatomy  of  Abuses,  p.  197,  we  have  :  "  Ludovicus  Vives 
saith.  Amongst  all  pleasures,  dancing  and  voluptuousness  is  the  king- 
dom of  Venus,  and  the  empire  of  Cupid."  And  same  work,  p. 
163  :  "  Aristotle  debarreth  youth  of  access  to  plays  and  interludes, 
least  their  seeking  to  quench  the  thirst  of  Venus  do  quench  it  with  a 
pottle  of  fire."  Again,  Bacon  recommended  the  writing  of  a  "  His- 
tory of  Venus  fts  a  Species  of  Touch  ;"  also  a  "  History  of  Concep- 
tion, Vivification,  Gestation  in  the  Womb,  Birth,  eic. " 

^  Note  throughout  this  use  of  the   word   "match"    instead   of 


138  RELATIONAL  FACTS. 

that  also  be  pleasing  to  the  touch.  But  the  causes  are  pro- 
found. First,  all  the  organs  of  the  senses  qualify  the  mo- 
tions of  the  spirits  ;  and  make  so  many  several  species  of 
motions,  and  pleasures  or  displeasures  thereupon,  as  there 
be  diversities  of  organs.  The  instruments  of  sight,  hear- 
ing, taste,  and  smell  are  of  several  frame,  and  so  are 
the  parts  for  generation.  Therefore  Scaliger  doth  well 
to  make  the  pleasui-e  of  generation  a  sixth  sense  ;' 
and  if  there  were  any  other  differing  organs,  and  qualitied 
perforations  for  the  spirits  to  pass,  there  would  be  more 
than  the  five  senses.  Neither  do  we  well  know'  whether 
some  beasts  and  birds  have  not  senses  that  we  know  not  ; 
and  the  very  scent  of  dogs  is  almost  a  sense  of  itself.  Sec- 
ondly, the  pleasures  of  the  touch  are  greater  and  deeper 
than  those  of  the  other  senses,  as  we  see  in  warming  upon 
cold,  or  refrigeration  upon  heat  ;  for  as  the  pains  of  the 
touch  are  greater  than  the  offences  of  other  senses,  so  like- 
wise are  the  pleasures.  It  is  true  that  the  affecting  of  the 
spirits  immediately,  and,  as  it  were,  without  an  organ,  is 
of  the  greatest  pleasure,  which  is  but  in  two  things  :  sweet 
smells,  and  wine  and  the  like  sweet  vapours.  For  smells, 
we  see  their  great  and  sudden  effect  in  fetching^  men  again 


"  compare"  or  like  words.     In  the  Winter's  Tale,  Act  v.,  sc.  3,  p. 

137,  we  have  : 

"  O,  sweet  Paulina  ! 
Make  me  to  think  so  twenty  years  together  : 
No  settled  senses  of  the  world  can  match 
The  pleasure  of  that  madness.     Left  alone." 

'  Note,  and  for  future  reference,  this  belief  in  a  sixth  sense, 
founded  upon  sex. 

^  Note  throughout  the  expression  "  well  know." 

*  In  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  119,  we  have  :  "  In  a  word,  a  man  might 
reply  to  one  of  these  comforters  as  Augustus  did  to  his  friend  who 
advised  him  not  to  grieve  for  the  death  of  a  person  whom  he  loved, 
because  his  grief  would  not  fetch  him  again."  See  the  distinctive 
use  of  this  word  "fetch"  at  p.  69,  note  1.  And  note  through- 
out its  constant  use.  Bacon  says  :  "  For  as  money  will  fetch  all 
other  commodities,  so  this  knowledge  is  that  which  should  purchase 
all  the  rest."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  384.)  In  Addison,  vol.  v.,  p. 
161,  we  have  :  "  Why,  yonder's  the  line  Londoner  and  madam  fetch- 
ing a  walk  together,  and  methought  they  looked  as  if  they  should  say 
they  had  rather  have  my  room  than  my  company."  In  The  Pil- 
grim's Progress,  p.  288,  we  have  :  "  If  a  man  would  live  well,  let 
him  fetch  his  last  day  to  him,  and  make  it  always  his  company 
keeper."     In  Measure  for  Measure,  Act  iii.,  sc.  1,  p.  70,  we  have  : 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  139 

when  they  swoon  ;  for  drink,  it  is  certain  that  the  pleasure 
of  drunkenness'  is  next  the  pleasure  of  Venus  ;  and  great 
iovs  likewise  make  tlie  spirits  move  and  touch  themselves^ 
and  the  pleasure  of  Venus  is  somewhat  of  the  same  kind. 

"  693  It  hath  heen  observed  by  the  ancients  tliat  niuc  i 
use  of  Venus  doth  dim  the  sight  ;  and  yet  eunuchs  which 
are  unable  to  generate  are  nevertheless  also  dim  sighted. 
The  cause  of  dimness  of  sight  in  the  former  is  the  expense 
of  spirits  f  in  the  latter,  the  over- moisture'  of  the  brain  ; 
for  over-moisture  of  the  brain  doth  thicken  the  spirits 
visual,  and  obstructeth  their  passages,  as  we  see  by  the  decay 

"  Think  you  I  can  a  resolution  fetch 
From  flowery  tenderness  ?" 

In  Hamlet,  Act  ii.,  so.  1,  p.  243,  we  have  : 

"  Pol.  Marry,  sir,  here's  my  drift. 
And  1  believe  it  is  a  fetch  of  warrant  :    etc. 

»  In  Othello,  Act  ii.,  sc.  3,  p.  470,  we  have: 

"  O  thou  invisible  spirit  of  wine  !  if  thou  hast  no  name  to  be 
knowA  by,  let  us  call  Ihee-devil."  In  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  111. 
we  have  f"  The  sober  man,  by  the  strength  of  reason,  may  keep 
under  and  subdue  every  vice  or  folly  to  which  he  is  most  mclmed  ; 
but  wine  makes  every  latent  seed  sprout  up  in  the  soul,  and  show 
itself     it  gives  fury  to  the  passions,  and  force  to  those  objects  which 

"fT?lhirdScl?vTBaconian  expression  "expense  of  spirit," 
we  have  called  attention  in  connection  with  Sonnet  129.  Bacon 
savs  •  "  It  is  in  expense  of  blood  as  it  is  in  expense  of  money.  (Ba- 
ton's Letters  vol.  iv.,  p.  401.)  In  Sub.  352  of  his  Natural  History 
he  savs  ''Fire  and  flime  are  in  continual  expense  ;,  sugar  shineth 
oulv  while  it  is  in  scraping;  and  salt  water  while  it  is  in  dashing  ; 
%w-worms  have  their  sldning  while  they  hve.  or  a  l.tt  e  after 
We  h^ve  the  glow-worm  mentioned  in  the  play  of  Hamlet,  and  o  e 
of  the  Addison  articles  is  subscribed  Martha  Glow-worm.  Sub.  634 
of  Bacon's  Natural  History  is  as  follows  :  "  It  hath  been  noted  that 
most  Sees  and  specially  those  that  bear  mast,  are  fruitful  but  once 
Ttwo  years  The  causi  no  doubt,  is  the  expense  of  sap  ; /or  many 
orcha?d  trees  well  cultured,  will  bear  diverse  years  together. 
Note  now  tlfe  word  "mast"  as  used  in  the  foregoing  by  Bacon, 
and  in  the  following  from  Shakespeare  : 

"  Whv  should  you  want  ?    Behold,  the  earth  hath  roots  ; 

Within  this  mile  break  forth  a  hundred  springs  ; 

The  oaks  bear  mast,  the  briars  scarlet  hips  ; 

The  bounteous  housewife,  nature,  on  each  bush 

Lays  her  full  mess  before  voLi."  „  o  ^   loi 

^  —Timon  of  Athens,  Act  iv.,  so.  3,  p.  104. 

3  Note  in  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy  the  handling  of  this  sub- 
ject of  the  over-moisture  of  the  brain. 


140  RELATIONAL  FACTS. 

in  the  sight  in  age,  where  also  th-e  diminution  of  the  spirits 
conciirreth  as  another  cause  ;  we  see  also  that  blindness 
Cometh  from  rheums  and  cataracts.  Now  in  eunuchs  there 
are  all  the  notes  of  moisture  ;  as  the  swelling  of  the  thighs, 
the  looseness  of  their  belly,  and  the  smoothness  of  their 
skin,"  etc. 

From  sub.  713  to  723  the  passions  of  the  mind  will  be 
found  graphically  set  forth.     Two  of  these  we  quote  thus  : 

"  713.  The  passions  of  the  mind  work  upon  the  body 
the  impressions  following.  Fear  causeth  paleness,  trem- 
bling, the  standing  of  the  hair  upright,  starting  and 
screeching.  The  paleness  is  caused,  for  tliat  the  blood  run- 
neth inward  to  succour  the  heart.  The  trembling  is 
caused,  for  that  through  the  flight  of  the  spirits  inward, 
the  outward  parts  are  destituted,  and  not  sustained. 
Standing  upright  of  the  hair'  is  caused,  for  that  by 
shutting  of  the  pores  of  the  skin,  the  hair  that  lietli  aslope 
must  needs  rise.  Starting  is  both  an  apprehension  of  the 
thing  feared  (and  in  that  kind  it  is  a  motion  of  shrinking), 
and  likewise  an  inquisition  in  the  beginning,  what  the 
matter  should  be*  (and  in  that  kind  it  is  a  motion  of  erec- 
tion), and  therefore  when  a  man  would  listen  suddenly  to 
anything,  he  starteth,  for  the  starting  is  an  erection  of 
the  spirits  to  attend.  Screeching  is  an  appetite  of  expel- 
ling that  which  suddenly  striketh  the  spirits  ;  for  it  must 

'  In  Hamlet  we  have  the  liair  standing  "  like  quills  upon  the  fret- 
ful porcupine." 

^  Note  the  peculiar  form  of  the  expression,  "  what  the  matter 
should  be."  Bacon  often  makes  tlie  word  "should"  serve  this 
kind  of  interrogative  use.  lie  will  frequently  be  found  to  use  the 
expression  "  wliat  it  should  mean"  in  the  identical  sense  found  in 
the  following  from  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  333  :  "  Many  have 
spoken  of  it  ;  but  none  can  tell  what  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death  should  mean  until  they  come  in  it  themselves."  Bacon  him- 
self, following  his  fall,  came  into  that  valley,  and  so  was  able  to 
describe  it.  Again  in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  278,  we  have  : 
"  Now,  Christiana,  imagining  what  they  should  mean,  made  answer, 
We  will  neither  hear,  nor  regard,  nor  yield  to  what  you  shall  ask." 
And  on  p.  3y2,  "  Then  they  asked  the  shepherds  what  that  should 
mean."     And  in  Hamlet,  Act  iv.,  sc.  7,  we  have  : 

"  What  should  this  mean  I    Are  all  the  rest  come  back  1" 

In  Henry  VIII.,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  294,  we  have  : 

"  Wol.  What  should  this  mean  ? 

What  sudden  anger's  this  ?  how  have  I  reap'd  it  ? 


RELATIONAL    FACTS.  141 

be  noted,  tliat  many  motions,  though  they  be  unprofitable 
to  expel  that  which  hurteth,  yet  they  are  offers  of  nature, 
and  cause  motions  by  consent,  as  in  groaning,  or  crying 
upon  pain." 

"  723.  Lust  causeth  a  flagrancy  in  the  eyes,  and  pria- 
pism. The  cause  of  both  these  is,  for  that  in  lust,  the  sight 
and  the  touch  are  the  things  desired,  and  therefore  the 
spirits  resort  to  those  parts  which  are  most  affected.  And 
note  well  in  general  (for  that  great  use  may  be  made  of 
the  observation),  that,  evermore,  the  spirits  in  all  passions, 
resort  most  to  the  parts  that  labour  most,  or  are  most 
affected.  As  in  the  last  which  hath  been  mentioned,  they 
resort  to  the  eyes'  and  venerous  parts  ;  in  fear  and  anger 
to  the  heart ;  in  shame  to  the  face  ;  and  in  light  dislikes 
to  the  head." 

Bacon  indeed  believed  in  lusts  and  appetites  in  or 
through  mere  matter  and  below  consciousness,  and  so  in  a 
kind  of  perception  below  sense.  To  this  subject  he  de- 
voted careful  thought  in  connection  with  the  subjects  of 
the  sensibility,  perception,  and  the  human  soul.  See 
ch.  3,  Book  4,  of  the  De  Augnientis. 

And  in  ch.  3  of  Book  7  he  as  to  the  passions  further 
says  :  "  So  likewise  I  find  some  particular  writings  of  an 
elegant  nature,  touching  some  of  the  affections,  as  of 
anger,  of  tenderness  of  countenance,  and  some  few  others. 
But  to  speak  the  real  truth,  the  poets  and  writers  of  his- 
tory are  the  best  doctors  of  this  knowledge,  where  we  may 
find  painted  forth  with  great  life  and  dissected,  how  affec- 
tions are  kindled  and  excited,  and  how  pacified  and  re- 
strained, and  how  again  contained  from  act  and  further 
degree  ;  how  they  disclose  themselves,  though  repressed  and 
concealed  ;  how  they  work  ;  how  they  vary  ;  how  they  are 
enwrapped  one  within  another  ;  how  they  fight  and  en- 

'  Note  the  emphasis  upon  this  thought  as  to  the  eyes  in  all  of  the^e 
writings,  and  to  which  we  shall  again  have  occasion  to  refer.  In 
Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  iv.,  sc.  3,  p.  430,  we  have  : 

"  From  women's  eyes  this  doctrine  I  derive  : 
They  sparkle  still  the  right  Promethean  fire  ; 
They  are  the  books,  the  arts,  the  Academes, 
That  show,  contain,  and  nourish  all  the  world  ; 
Else,  none  at  all  in  aught  proves  excellent." 

Note  the  words  "  Promethean  fire"  in  connection  with  Bacon's  in- 
terpretation of  the  fable  "  Prometheus  ;  or,  The  State  of  Man." 


142  RELATIONAL   FACTS. 

counter  one  with  another  ;  and  many  other  particular- 
ities of  this  kind  ;  amongst  which  this  last  is  of  special 
use  in  moral  and  civil  matters ;  how,  I  say,  to  set  affection 
against  affection,  and  to  use  the  aid  of  one  to  master  an- 
other ;  like  hunters  and  fowlers  who  use  to  hunt  beast 
with  beast,  and  catch  bird  with  bird,  which  otherwise 
perhaps  without  their  aid  man  of  himself  could  not  so 
easily  contrive  ;'  upon  which  foundation  is  erected  that 
excellent  and  general  use  in  civil  government  of  reward 
and  punishment,  whereon  commonwealths  lean  ;  seeing 
those  predominant  affections  of  fear  and  hope  suppress 
and  bridle  all  the  rest.  For  as  in  the  government  of  states 
it  is  sometimes  necessary  to  bridle'*  one  faction  with  an- 
other, so  it  is  in  the  internal  government  of  the  mind." 

In  connection  with  the  foregoing  thoughts,  let  the  use  of 
the  word  "  womb,"  as  a  figure  of  speech,  be  called  into 
relation  in  all  of  the  works  under  review. 

In  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  iv.,  sc.  2,  p.  412,  we  have  : 

"  This  is  a  gift  that  I  have,  simple,  simple  ;  a  foolish  extravagant 
spirit,  full  of  forms,  figures,  shapes,  objects,  ideas,  apprehensions, 
motions,  revolutions  :  these  are  begot  in  the  ventricle  of  memory, 
nourish'd  in  the  womb  of  pia  mater,  and  deliver'd  upon  the  mellow- 
ing of  occasion  :  but  the  gift  is  good  in  those  in  whom  it  is  acute, 
and  I  am  thankful  for  it." 

See  the  use  of  this  word  "mellow"  in  Addison,  vol.  v., 
p.  227. 

In  Komeo  and  Juliet,  Act  ii.,  sc.  3,  p.  74,  we  have  : 

"  The  earth,  that's  nature's  mother,  is  her  tomb  ; 
What  is  her  burying  grave,  that  is  her  womb  ; 
And  from  her  womb  children  of  diners  kind 
We  sucking  on  her  natural  bosom  And  : 
Many  for  many  virtues  excellent. 
None  but  for  some,  and  yet  all  different." 

Bacon  says  :  "  If  therefore,  the  theories  we  have  men- 
tioned were  not  like  plants,  torn  up  by  the  roots,  but 
grew  in  the  womb  of  nature,  and  were  nourished  by  her, 

'  See  our  quotation  from  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  69. 

''The  words  "bridle,"  "snare,"  "spur"  were  frequent  figures 
of  speech  with  Bacon,  and  they  are  spread  everywhere  in  the  plays. 
In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  350,  we  have  :  "For  though  to  let 
loose  the  bridle  to  lusts,  while  our  opinions  are  against  such  things, 
is  bad  ;  yet  to  sin,  and  plead  a  toleration  so  to  do,  is  worse  :  the  one 
stumbles    beholders    accidentally,   the  other  leads   them   into  the 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  143 

that  -which  for  the  last  two  thousand  years  has  taken  place 
■would  never  have  happened,  namely,  that  the  sciences 
still  continue  in  their  beaten  track,  and  nearly  stationary, 
■without  having  received  any  important  increase,  nay,  hav- 
ing, on  the  contrary,  rather  bloomed  under  the  hands  of 
their  first  author,  and  then  faded  away."  (Novum  Or- 
ganum,  Book  1,  Aph.  74. ) 

Again  he  says  :  "  I  mentioned  a  little  before  (in  speak- 
ing of  forms)  the  two  different  emanations  of  souls,  which 
appear  in  the  first  creation  thereof  ;  the  one  springing 
from  the  breath  of  God,  the  other  from  the  wombs  of  the 
elements."     (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  396.) 

Again  :  "For  I  never  saw  but  that  business  is  like  a 
child  which  is  framed  invisibly  in  the  womb  ;  and  if  it 
come  forth  too  soon,  it  will  be  abortive."  (Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  v.,  p.  237.)     And  on  p.  303  of  the  same  volume  : 

"  The  time  since  was  due  to  another  kind  of  deliverance 
too  ;  which  was  that  some  causes  of  estate  which  were  in 
the  womb  might  likewise  be  brought  forth,  not  for  matter 
of  justice,  but  for  reason  of  state." 

Even  in  the  youthful  treatise  the  Anatomy  of  Abuses, 
he  at  p.  2  says  :  "  Dame  Nature  brings  us  all  into  the  world 
after  one  sort,  and  receiveth  all  again  into  the  womb  of  our 
mother  (the  bowels  of  the  earth)." 

And  in  his  Defoe's  "Storm,"  referring  at  p.  262  to 
David's  search  into  nature,  he  says  :  "  Thus  in  another 
place  we  find  him  dissecting  the  'womb  of  his  mother,and 
deep  in  the  study  of  Anatomy.'" 

In  the  Venus  and  Adonis  we  have  subtly  couched  ele- 
ments, we  think,  touching  the  serpent  and  dove  of  Bacon's 
metaphysics.^     And  note    in  it  Baconian  words  and  ex- 

'  Read  in  this  connection  Bacon's  interpretation  of  the  fable  en- 
titled "  Deucalion  or  Restoration  ;"  and  where  may  be  found  the 
origin,  we  think,  of  the  thought  as  to  the  burden  upon  the  back  in 
The  Pilgrim's  Progress  and  the  "  more  ofEenses  at  my  back,"  etc.,  in 
Hamlet. 

^  In  his  fable  entitled  Cupid  ;  or  the  Atom,  Bacon  says  :  "  For 
Venus  excites  the  general  appetite  of  conjunction  and  procrea- 
tion ;  Cupid,  her  son,  applies  the  appetite  to  an  individual  object. 
From  Venus,  therefore,  comes  the  general  disposition,  from  Cupid 
the  more  exact  sympathy.  Now  the  general  disposition  depends 
upon  causes  near  at  hand,  the  particular  sympathy  upon  prin- 
ciples more  deep  and  fatal,  and  as  if  derived  from  that  ancient 
Cupid,  wlio  is  the  source  of  all  extjuisite  sympathy."  He  here  also 
says  :  "  The  blindness  likewise  of  Cupid  has  an  allegorical  meaning 


144:  RELATIONAL   FACTS. 

pressions,  as  *'  sovereign  salve,"  "  leaden  appetite,"  "  hard 
favor'd,"  "vapours,"  "contemn,"  "  swelling  passion," 
"provoke  a  pause,"  "womb,"  "treble  wrong,"  "dull 
earth,"  "engine,"  "therefore  no  marvel,"  "noth- 
ing worth,"  '  "  double  wrong,"  "  ill  presage,"  "night  of 
sorrow,"  "fear  of  slips,"  "honour's  wrack,"  "out  of 
hope,"  "  maw,"  "  kindle,"  "  be  ruled  by  me,"  "  shifts," 
"much  ado,"  "so  fair  a  hope,"  "undone,"  "  embrace- 
ments,"  "good  morrow,"  "  swelling  dugs,"  "sinews," 
"  sovereign  plaster,"  "  consort,"'  "  doteth,"  "heavy  tale," 
"  match,"'  etc.;  likewise  note  the  words  "  snail,"*  "  hunt 
the  boar,"^  etc, 

full  of  wisdom.  For  it  seems  that  this  Cupid,  whatever  he  be,  has 
very  little  providence  ;  but  directs  his  course,  like  a  blind  man 
groping,  by  whatever  he  finds  nearest  ;  which  makes  the  supreme 
divine  providence  all  the  more  to  be  admired,  as  that  which  con- 
trives out  of  subjects  peculiarly  empty  and  destitute  of  providence, 
and,  as  it  were,  blind,  to  educe  by  a  fatal  and  necessary  law  all  the 
order  and  beauty  of  the  universe." 

'In  Bacon  s  Philosophical  Works,  vol.  ii. ,  p.  533,  we  have  :  ' '  Belike 
it  is  cast  away  as  nothing  worth  ;  inquire  better  of  it,  for  the  discovery 
of  the  nature  of  the  plant."  The  expression  may  be  again  noted  in 
Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  116. 

*  "  So  we  see  that  voices  and  consorts  of  music  do  make  an  har- 
mony by  mixture,  which  colours  do  not. "  (Bacon's  Natural  History, 
sub.  224.) 

^  "  As  for  air,  when  it  is  strongly  pent,  it  matcheth  a  hard  body." 
(Bacon's  Natural  History,  sub.  164.) 

■•  Promus,  138.  Not  like  a  crab,  though  like  a  snail.  In  Love's 
Labour's  Lost,  Act  iv.,  sc.  3,  p.  429,  we  have  : 

"  Love's  feeling  is  more  soft,  and  sensible. 
Than  are  the  tender  horns  of  cockled  snails,"  etc. 
Promus,  1230.  Hot  cockles.     And  in  the  same  act  and  scene,  p.  431, 
we  have  : 

"  Bir.  Allans  !  Allons ! — Sow'd  cockle  reap'd  no  corn,"  etc.  See 
The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  288.  In  the  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  Act 
iv.,  sc.  3,  p.  480,  we  have  : 

"  A  velvet  dish  : — fie,  fie  !  'tis  lewd  and  filthy  : 
Why,  'tis  a  cockle  or  a  walnut  shell,"  etc. 
See  the  use  of  this  word  cockle  in  the  play  of  Hamlet,  Act  iv.,  sc.  5, 
p.  321.  And  in  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  140,  we  have:  "I  would 
gladly  know  in  particular  what  notion  you  have  of  hot  cockles  ;  as 
also  whether  you  think  that  questions  and  commands,  mottoes, 
similes,  and  cross  purposes,  have  not  more  mirth  and  wit  in  them 
than  those  public  diversions  which  are  grow^n  so  very  fashionable 
among  us."  (See  "snail"  and  "cockle,"  Addison,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  155 
and  421.)  If  we  might  leave  the  line  which  \fe  have  marked  out  to 
ourselves  any  amount  of  like  material  might  be  introduced. 

*  Promus,   830.  (To  send  a  wild  boar  to  the  fountains,   a  south 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  145 

Eetnrniiig  now  from  this  digression  from  our  sketch,  as 
to  the  father  and  mother  of  Sir  Francis  Bacon,  we  next 
introduce  some  thoughts  toiTching  his  uncle,  Sir  William 
Cecil ;  in  other  words,  Lord  Burghley,  and  who  had  no 
inconsiderable  influence  upon  his  thoughts  and  frffe. 

Burghley  was  indeed  the  foremost  minister  of  the  crown 
during  nearly  the  whole  of  Elizabeth's  long  reign,  and  had 
even  maintained  a  correspondence  with  her  previous  to 
her  coming  to  the  throne.  He  prepared  the  proclama- 
tion declaring  her  queen  upon  the  death  of  her  sister. 
Queen  Mary.  At  Mary's  accession  he  signed  the  instru- 
ment making  over  the  crown  to  Lady  Jane  Grey,  a  then 
claimant,  and  niece  of  Henry  the  Eighth  ;  and  though  he 
signed  it  but  as  a  witness  dangers  threatened  him  on  every 
hand  during  her  reign.  He  was  a  son  of  Eobert  Cecil, 
Master  of  the  Kobes  to  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  was  born 
in  1520.  Having  been  educated  at  Cambridge,  he  entered 
Gray's  Inn  at  the  age  of  twenty-one.  Through  the  friend- 
ship of  Somerset,  Protector  during  Edward  the  Sixth's 
minority,  he  was  made  Secretary  of  State.  He  shared 
Somerset's  imprisonment,  but  later  regained  his  office 
under  Northumberland.  Upon  Elizabeth's  accession  he 
was  at  once  made  Secretary  of  State  and  a  member  of  her 
privy  council.  He  continued  as  Secretary  of  State  until 
]572,  at  which  time  he  became  Lord  High  Treasurer  of 
England,  which  office  he  held  until  his  death  in  1597. 
He  kept  clear  from  religious  difficulties  by  displaying  no 
dislike  to  Catholics,  and  he  is  said  to  have  had  no  special 
devotion  to  any  particular  form  of  doctrine.  In  this  re- 
gard he  did  not  enter  into  the  deep  passion  of  his  times. 
During  Mary's  reign,  he  by  great  sagacity  maintained  his 
connection  with  his  old  friends,  by  manifesting  slight  if 
any  opposition  to  the  court  party,  and  he  may  indeed  be 
said  to  have  been  very  worldly  wise.    Following  the  acces- 

wind  to  the  flowers.  Said  of  those  who  bring  evil  upon  themselves  ; 
wish  for  what  would  do  them  harm.)  From  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p. 
207,  we  quote  :  "  We  had  the  fortune  to  see  what  may  be  supposed  to 
be  the  occasion  of  that  opinion  which  Lucian  relates  concerning  this 
river — viz.,  that  this  stream,  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  especially 
about  the  feast  of  Adonis,  is  of  a  bloody  colour  ;  which  the  heathens 
looked  upon  as  proceeding  from  a  kind  of  sj-mpathy  in  the  river  for 
the  death  of  Adonis,  who  was  killed  by  a  wild  boar  in  the  moun- 
tains, out  of  which  this  stream  rises."  As  to  the  wild  boar  and 
flowers,  see  Addison,  vol.  ii.,  p.  363,  and  vol.  iv.,  p.  67. 


146  RELATIONAL  FACTS. 

sion  of  Elizabeth  lie  apparently  grew  more  pronounced 
toward  the  reformed  faith.  It  is  said  of  him  that  he 
would  not  scruple  at  any  treachery  to  gain  the  secrets  of 
his  enemies,  and  that  his  emissaries  were  everywhere.  It 
is  still  said  of  him  that  he  was  incorruptible  in  office. 
Concerning  his  mode  of  living,  Hume,  in  his  History  of 
England,  vol.  iii.,  p.  577,  says  :  "  Burghley  'entertained 
tbe  queen  twelve  several  times  in  his  country  house,  where 
she  remained  three,  four,  or  five  weeks  at  a  time.  Each 
visit  cost  him  two  or  three  thousand  pounds.  The  quan- 
tity of  silver  plate  possessed  by  this  nobleman  is  surprising 
-^no  less  than  fourteen  or  fifteen  thousand  pounds  weight, 
which,  besides  the  fashion,  would  be  above  forty-two  thou- 
sand pounds  sterling  in  value." 

Already  have  we  seen  England's  growing  fears  touching 
the  Queen  of  Scots  ripen  into  a  statute  enacted  by  the 
Parliament  addressed  by  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon  in  1571 ;  and 
now  in  1584  papers  in  her  interest  were  detected  showing 
some  treasonable  project  in  the  course  of  formation,  and 
so  more  stringent  acts  were  passed  concerning  her,  as  well 
as  for  the  greater  protection  of  the  person  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth. 

Philip  the  Second  of  Spain  and  husband  of  Queen  Mary, 
now  deceased,  had  early  ni  Elizabeth's  reign  offered  him- 
self to  her  in  marriage,  and  with  the  view,  doubtless,  of 
again  returning  England  to  Catholic  rule.  This  proposal, 
as  all  marriage  proposals  to  Elizabeth,  being  rejected,  was 
deeply  resented  by  Philip,  who  thereupon  resolved  not 
only  upon  a  gigantic  invasion  of  England,  but  upon  the 
overthrow  of  her  Protestant  queen  and  cause.  The  long- 
delayed  preparations  for  the  event  were  thought  to  have 
been  due  to  plottiugs  against  Elizabeth  centred  about  the 
Queen  of  Scots,  held  still  in  custody,  but  which  were  rap- 
idly quickened  and  ripened  by  her  trial  and  execution, 
which  took  place  at  Fotheringay  Castle,  February  7th, 
1587.  This  now  rapidly  moved  enterprise  by  Philip  is 
said  not  to  have  been  wholly  due  to  the  mentioned  refusal 
of  his  suit,  as  complaints  were  made  by  him  of  what  he 
regarded  as  depredations  committed  by  the  English,  and 
especially  by  their  great  admiral,  Sir  Francis  Drake,  on 
the  Spanish  possessions  in  South  America,  and  even  upon 
the  coast  of  Spain  itself.  Philip's  great  fleet  for  the  men- 
tioned undertaking  consisted  of  sixty  thousand  men  and 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  147 

one  hundred  and  tiiirty  vessels,  larger  than  had  ever  been 
seen  in  England,  It  was  now  proj^osed  to  sweep  England 
from  the  seas,  ravage  her  coasfcs,  burn  her  towns,  and  de- 
throne her  Protestant  queen.  The  Pope  blessed  the  ex- 
pedition and  offered  the  sovereignty  of  England  as  a  prize 
to  the  conqueror,  and  the  Catholics  throughout  Europe 
were  so  confident  of  the  success  of  this  renowned  enter- 
prise that  they  called  the  great  fleet  which  was  to  accom- 
plish it  the  Invincible  Armada.  It  sailed  from  Lisbon  for 
the  English  coast  in  May,  1588.  Its  anticipated  arrival 
filled  England  with  terror.  Her  undaunted  queen  in 
person  superintended  the  preparations  for  the  struggle, 
and  having  mustered  the  forces  of  the  kingdom  to  the 
number  of  forty-five  thousand  men,  she  at  the  camp  at 
Tilbury,  on  horseback,  rode  through  the  ranks,  and  per- 
sonally addressed  the  soldiers  in  bold  and  animated  lan- 
guage, saying,  among  other  things  :  "  I  know  that  I  have 
but  the  body  of  a  weak  and  feeble  woman,  but  I  have  the 
heart  of  a  king,  and  of  the  King  of  England,  too,  and 
think  foul  scorn  that  Parma,  or  Spain,  or  any  prince  of 
Europe  should  dare  to  invade  the  borders  of  my  realms  ; 
for  which,  rather  than  any  dishonor  shall  grow  by  me, 
I  myself  will  take  up  arms  ;  I  myself  will  be  your  general, 
judge,  and  rewarder  of  every  one  of  your  virtues  in  the 
field." 

The  fleet  suffered  from  a  storm  when  off  the  French 
coast,  and  in  passing  through  the  English  Channel  was 
severely  harassed  by  the  light  English  vessels.  Having  by 
a  further  storm  been  compelled  to  anchor  at  Calais,  it  was 
suddenly  thrown  into  the  most  utter  confusion  by  means 
of  a  number  of  fire-ships  prepared  by  the  English,  and  so 
placed  as  to  be  driven  by  the  violent  winds  into  the  very 
midst  of  this  great  fleet,  so  that  the  Spanish  admiral  no 
longer  thought  of  victory  but  of  escape  from  the  flames 
and  sulphurous  stenches  from  these  burning  hulks.  As  a 
stout  wind  from  the  south  prevented  his  return,  he  coasted 
along  the  shores  to.  the  north  of  Scotland  and  Ireland,  and 
was  finally  driven  by  the  winds  upon  the  coasts  of  Norway 
and  Scotland.  When  off  the  Irish  coast  another  great 
loss  was  experienced  by  the  storm,  and  finally  but  a  few 
scattered  and  straggling  vessels  from  this  mighty  fleet 
reached  Spain  to  tell  its  terrible  fate.  Had  these  events 
or  the  causes  that  lead  to  them,  any  influence  upon  the 


148  RELATIONAL  FACTS. 

play  of  Hamlet  ?  This  defeat  of  the  Armada,  chiefly  by 
the  winds,  was  in  England  regarded  as  providential. 

From  this  time  the  commerce  and  naval  power  of  Spain 
began  to  decline,  notwithstanding  its  rich  mines  of  gold 
and  silver  in  the  New  World,  though  these  were,  let  it  be 
remembered,  somewhat  exhausted  at  the  death  of  Philip, 
in  1598.  These  failures,  though  not  at  first  apparent, 
involved  all  of  Philip's  other  schemes.  Of  it  he  said  : 
"  I  sent  my  ships  against  men,  not  against  the  billows. 
I  thank  God  that  I  can  place  another  fleet  upon  the  sea." 
This,  however,  he  did  not  prove  able  successfully  to  do. 
During  his  reign  he  was  the  most  formidable  and  the  fore- 
most figure  in  European  history,  and  he  is  said  to  have  im- 
pressed upon  the  Spanish  character  much  of  that  distinctive- 
ness wherein  it  so  greatly  influenced  European  culture. 

Following  this  event  England  is  said  to  have  tolerated, 
under  Drake,  Hawkins,  Howard,  Cavendish,  Sir  Walter 
Ealeigh,  and  others  if  it  did  not  encourage,  a  kind  of 
piratical  retaliation  upon  the  Spanish  possessions  (see 
some  of  the  works  now  attributed  to  Defoe)  and  which 
led  the  way  to  England's  maritime  and  colonial  glory,  as 
Knight  in  his  History  of  England  says.  He  also  says  : 
"  If  they  plundered  somewhat  too  freely  and  destroyed 
too  mercilessly,  they  had  large  national  objects  in  view 
as  well  as  private  lucre."  Chapters  7  and  8  of  Knight's 
History  of  England,  vol.  iii.,  and  Hume,  vol.  iii.,  pp. 
491-96,  will  throw  much  light  upon  this  branch  of  our 
subject,  as  in  due  time  we  shall  claim  to  the  reader  that 
the  piratical  stories  in  the  Defoe  literature  were  products 
of  this,  and  not  of  the  Defoe  period,  and  that  they  have 
more  than  a  single  object  in  view. 

This  was  indeed  an  age  of  discovery.  Drake,  in  1577, 
in  his  ''Golden  Hind"  had  undertaken  the  circuit  of  the 
globe.  In  1584  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  under  a  patent  from 
Queen  Elizabeth,  sent  out  an  expedition  which  visited  the 
southern  parts  of  North  America  north  of  the  Spanish  pos- 
sessions, and  the  queen  upon  its  return  gave  to  the  explored 
country,  in  pursuance  of  her  claim  asthe  virgin  queen, 
the  name  of  Virginia.  The  following  year  he  sent  an- 
other expedition  which  jjlauted  on  Roanoke  Island,  Caro- 
lina, the  first  English  colony  in  the  New  World,  but 
wliich  was  abandoned  the  year  after.  In  1587  he  made 
a  further  attempt  by  sending  three  vessels  and  one  hun- 


RELA.TIONAL  FACTS.  149 

dred  and  fifty  men  and  women,  with  a  governor  and  coun- 
sel for  the  colony,  which  arrived  on  the  coast  of  North 
Carolina  in  July,  but  what  became  of  the  colony  was 
never  known.  Expeditions  were  sent  also  by  other  coun- 
tries. In  1602  an  English  expedition  was  sent  to  the  New 
England  coast,  which  visited  Cape  Cod  and  Martha's 
Vineyard.  But  no  permanent  English  colony  was  plant- 
ed in  America,  let  it  be  remembered,  during  the  reign  of 
Elizabeth.  During  the  next  reign,  the  reign  of  James 
the  First,  several  were  sent  out  and  permanently  estab- 
lished, as  we  shall  see  further  on,  and  for  which  the  reign 
of  James  is  chiefly  noted. 

Burghley  is  said  to  have  taken  much  interest  in  many 
of  the  mentioned  events.  He  advised  prompt  and  vigorous 
action  as  to  the  Queen  of  Scots.  By  his  official  position 
he  was  the  chief  adviser  of  the  queen,  and  is  said  nowhere 
to  have  shown  greater  sagacity  than  in  his  skill  in  neutral- 
izing her  fancies  and  variability,  who,  though  possessed 
of  the  high  qualities  of  a  sovereign,  was  still  by  no  means 
wanting  in  those  personal  vanities  belonging  to  her  sex. 
There  were  two  subjects  upon  which  she  seems  ever  to 
have  been  extremely  sensitive — namely,  the  subject  of  her 
successor  and  the  subject  of  her  marriage.  Early  in  her 
reign  she  seems  to  have  set  her  face  against  marriage,  de- 
termined, as  she  said,  to  live  and  die  a  virgin  queen. 
But  Burghley  did  not  hesitate  to  urge  her  marriage,  though 
against  her  enjoined  silence,  and  a  paper  presented  to  her 
upon  the  subject  in  1584  or  1585  is  extant  ;  and  wherein 
is  sketched  a  great  and  noble  policy  for  the  Protestant 
or  reformed  faith.  But  this  paper  was  evidently  a  prod- 
uct from  the  vigorous  pen  of  the  nephew  Francis.  That 
Bacon  was  author  of  this  paper  and  of  otliers  attributed 
to  Burghley,  see  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  pp.  43-47. 

By  this  policy  preparations  were  to  be  made  for  war 
both  by  sea  and  land  ;  wealth  and  honor  were  to  be  applied 
to  touch  and  attach  the  hearts  of  the  foremost  men  of  the 
nation,  and  no  longer  wasted  on  useless  favorites  ;  Ireland 
was  to  be  treated  in  a  conciliatory  spirit  and  with  attentive 
care  ;  and  lastly,  there  was  to  be  a  general  grand  alliance 
of  all  Protestant  countries  against  the  Catholics.  Such 
an  alliance  Bacon,  toward  the  close  of  the  reign  of  James 
the  First  again  advocated  against  the  Turks,  as  we  shall 
see  in  his  frao-ment  entitled  The  Holy  War. 


150  RELATIONA.L  FACTS. 

Much  fear  was  entertained  during  a  large  portion  of 
Elizabeth's  reign,  lest,  in  case  of  her  death,  unmarried  and 
without  issue,  England  might  again  be  at  the  mercy  of  a 
Catholic  prince  ;  and  hence  the  necessity  for  a  Protestant 
heir  to  the  throne  of  England,  was  a  burden  from  which 
Sir  Francis  Bacon  found  relief  in  many  a  variably  ex- 
pressed so-called  Shakespeare  sonnet,  and  covertly  de- 
signed, doubtless,  to  meet  the  eye  of  the  queen. 

From  many  such,  and  written  evidently  at  different 
periods  during  her  reign,  we  quote  the  following,  giving 
first  Sonnet  7,  which  is  in  these  words  : 

"  Lo  !  ia  the  orient  when  the  gracious  light 
Lifts  up  his  burning  head,  each  under  eye 
Doth  homage  to  his  new-appearing  sight, 
Serving  witli  looks  his  sacred  majesty  ; 
And  having  clinib'd  the  steep-up  heavenly  hill, 
Resembling  strong  youth  in  his  middle  age. 
Yet  mortal  looks  adore  his  beauty  still, 
Attending  on  his  golden  pilgrimage  : 
But  when  from  highmost  pitch,  with  weary  car, 
Like  feeble  age  he  reeleth  from  the  day, 
The  eyes,  'fore  duteous,  now  converted  are 
From  his  low  track,  and  look  another  way. 
So  thou,  thyself  outgoing  in  thy  noon, 
Unlook'd-on  diest,  unless  thou  get  a  son." 

He  here  represents  her  loyal  subjects  looking  upon  her 
as  upon  the  sun,  but  says  their  gaze  is  mortal,  as  the  eyes 
that  succeed  or  come  after  must  lose  her  form  and  look 
unless  they  may  find  it  in  her  issue  ;  and  says,  that  their 
eyes  in  her  increasing  years  will  turn  to  her  successor,  and 
having  no  issue,  her  objective  selfhood  will  be  forever  gone. 
Again,  in  Sonnet  13,  he  says  : 

"  O,  that  you  were  yourself  !  but,  love,  you  are 
No  longer  yours  than  you  yourself  here  live  : 
Against  this  coming  end  you  should  prepare. 
And  your  sweet  semblance  to  some  other  give. 
So  should  that  beauty,  which  you  hold  in  lease,' 

'  Bacon's  unusual  use  of  the  word  "  lease"  is  found  in  several 
places  in  the  sonnets.  In  sub.  390  of  his  Natural  History  he  says  : 
"Most  odours  smell  best  broken  or  crushed,  as  hath  been  said: 
but  flowers  pressed  or  beaten  do  lease  the  freshness  and  sweetness  of 
their  odour."  And  in  sub.  489  he  says:  "And  therefore  I  think 
rosemary  will  lease  in  sweetness,  if  it  be  set  with  lavender  or  bays, 
or  the  like."  And  in  sub.  39  he  says  :  "  And  therefore  purgers  lease 
(most  of  them)  the  virtue,  by  decoction  upon  the  fire  ;  and  for  that 
cause  are  given  chiefly  in  infusion,  juice,  or  powder,"  See  also  this 
work,  p.  34. 


RELATIONAL  FACTS.  151 

Find  no  determination  :  then  you  were 

Yourself  again,  after  yourself's  decease, 

When  your  sweet  issue  your  sweet  form  should  bear. 

Who  lets  so  fair  a  house'  fall  to  decay, 

Which  husbandry  in  honor  might  upliold 

Against  the  stormy  gusts  of  winter's  day, 

And  barren  rage  of  death's  eternal  cold  ? 

O  !  none  but  unthrift.     Dear  my  love,  you  know, 

You  had  a  father  ;  let  your  son  say  so." 

He  here  alludes,  we  think,  to  her  father,  Henry  the 
Eighth.     Again,  in  Sonnet  12,  he  says  : 

"  When  I  do  count  the  clock  that  tells  the  time. 
And  see  the  brave'  day  sunk  in  hideous  night ; 
When  I  behold  the  violet  past  prime. 
And  sable  curls  all  silver'd  o'er  with  white  ; 
When  lofty  trees  I  see  barren  of  leaves. 
Which  erst  from  heat  did  canopy  the  herd  ; 
And  summer's  green  all  girded  up  in  sheaves, 
Borne  on  the  bier  with  white  and  bristly  beard  ; 
Then  of  thy  beauty  do  I  question  make, 
That  thou  among  the  wastes  of  time  must  go. 
Since  sweets  and  beauties  do  themselves  forsake, 
And  die  as  fast  as  the}'  see  others  grow  : 
And  nothing  'gainst  time's  scythe  can  make  defence. 
Save  breed,  to  brave  him  when  he  takes  thee  hence. ' ' 

In  the  next  two  sonnets,  11  and  6,  he  refers,  we  think, 
to  her  fixed  determination  against  marriage,  and  says  : 

* '  As  fast  as  thou  shalt  wane,  so  fast  thou  growest 
In  one  of  thine,  from  that  which  thou  departest  ; 
And  that  fresh  blood,  which  youngly  thou  bestowest, 
Thou  may'st  call  thine,  when  thou  from  youth  convertest. 
Herein  lives  wisdom,  beauty,  and  increase  ; 
Without  this,  folly,  age,  and  cold  decay  : 
If  all  were  minded^  so,  the  times  should  cease. 
And  threescore  years  would  make  the  world  away. 

'  In  Bacon's  Natural  History,  sub.  747,  concerning  this  house  of 
the  human  body,  we  have  :  "  For  there  is  the  skull,  of  one  entire 
bone  ;  there  are  the  teeth  ;  there  are  the  maxillary  bones  ;  there  is 
the  hard  bone  that  is  the  instrument  of  hearing  ;  and  thence  issue  the 
horns  ;  so  that  the  building  of  living  creatures'  bodies  is  like  the 
building  of  a  timber  house  ;  where  the  walls  and  other  parts  have 
columns  and  beams,  but  the  roof  is,  in  the  better  sort  of  houses,  all 
tile  or  lead  or  stone." 

*  Note  Bacon's  use  of  the  word  "  brave"  in  every  phase  of  these 
writings. 

^  This  use  of  the  word  "  minded"  was  not  uncommon  with  Bacon  ; 
and  in  his  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  124,  we  have  the  expression  "  if  we 
had  been  so  minded." 


152  RELATIONAL   FACTS, 

Let  those,  whom  nature  hath  not  made  for  store,' 
Harsh,  featureless,  and  rude,  barrenly  perish  : 
Look,  whom  she  best  endow 'd,  she  gave  the  more  : 
Which  bounteous  gift  thou  should'st  in  bounty  cherish. 
She  carv'd  thee  for  her  seal,  and  meant  thereby, 
Thou  should'st  print  more,  nor  let  that  copy  die." 

"  Then,  let  not  winter's  ragged  hand  deface 
In  tliee  thy  summer,  ere  thou  be  distill'd  : 
Make  sweet»some  phial  ;  treasure  thou  some  place 
With  beauty's  treasure,  ere  it  be  self-kill'd. 
That  use  is  not  forbidden  usury, 
Which  happies  those  that  pay  the  willing  loan  ; 
That's  for  thyself  to  breed  another  thee, 
Or  ten  times  happier,  be  it  ten  for  one  : 
Ten  limes  thyself  were  happier  than  thou  art. 
If  ten  of  thine  ten  times  religur'd  thee. 
Then  what  could  death  do,  if  thou  should'st  depart, 
Leaving  thee  living  in  posterity  ? 
Be  not  self-willed  ;  for  thou  art  much  too  fair 
To  be  death's  conquest,  and  make  worms  thine  heir." 

The  next  two  sonnets,  9  and  2,  will  show,  first,  that  no 
private  person  is  referred  to  in  the  sonnets  here  quoted,  and, 
second,  that  a  public  successor  is  sought.     He  says  : 

"  Is  it  for  fear  to  wet  a  widow's  eye. 
That  thou  consum'st  thyself  in  single  life  ? 
Ah  !  if  thou  issueless  shalt  hap  to  die, 
The  world  will  wail  thee,  like  a  makeless  wife  ; 
The  world  will  be  thy  widow,  and  still  weep, 
That  thou  no  form  of  thee  hast  left  behind. 
When  every  private  widow  well  may  keep. 
By  children's  ej'es,  her  husband's  shape  in  mind. 
Look,  what  an  unthrift  in  the  world  doth  spend. 
Shifts  but  his  place,  for  still  the  world  enjoys  it ; 
But  beauty's  waste  hath  in  the  world  an  end. 
And,  kept  unus'd,  the  user  so  destroys  it. 
No  love  toward  others  in  that  bosom  sits, 
That  on  himself  such  murderous  shame  commits." 

"  When  forty  winters  shall  besiege  thy  brow. 
And  dig  deep  trenches  in  thy  beauty's  field, 
Thy  youth's  proud  livery,  so  gazed  on  now, 
AVi'll  be  a  tatter'd  weed,  of  small  worth  held  : 

'  This  word  "  store"  is  here  used  in  its  distinctive  Baconian  sense. 
In  sub.  35  of  Bacon's  Natural  History  he  says  :  "  It  is  reported  of 
credit,  that  if  you  lay  good  store  of  kernels  of  grapes  about  the  root 
of  a  vine,  it  will  make  the  vine  come  earlier  and  prosjjer  better." 
And  in  sub.  .573  we  have  :  "  It  is  certain  that  some  plants  put  forth 
for  a  time  of  their  owai  store,  without  any  nourishment  from  earth, 
water,  stone,"  etc.     In  fact  tliis  is  ever  his  word  for  this  place. 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  153 

Then,  being  ask'd  where  all  thy  beauty  lies, 
Where  all  tlie  treasure  of  thy  lusty  days  ; 
To  say,  within  thiue  own  deep-sunken  ej'es, 
Were  an  all- eating  shame,  and  thriftless  praise. 
How  much  more  praise  deserv'd  thy  beauty's  use, 
If  thou  couki'st  answer,  '  This  fair  child  of  mine 
Shall  sum  my  count,  and  make  my  old  excuse  ' 
Proving  his  beauty  by  succession  thine. 
This  were  to  be  new  made'  when  thou  art  old. 
And  see  thy  blood  warm  when  thou  feel'st  it  cold." 

See  also  Sonnets  1  and  4. 

Bacon  says  :  "  And  as  sometimes  it  coraeth  to  pass  that 
men's  inclinations  are  opened  more  in  a  toy,^  than  in  a 
serious  matter,  a  little  before  that  time  being  about  the 
middle  of  Michaelmas  term,  her  majesty  had  a  purpose  to 
dine  at  my  lodge  at  Twicknam  Park  at  which  time  I  had, 
though  I  profess  not  to  be  a  poet,  prepared  a  sonnet 
directly  tending  and  alluding  to  draw  on  her  majesty's 
reconcilement  to  my  lord  ;  which,  I  remember,  also  I 
showed  to  a  great  person,  and  one  of  my  lord's  nearest 
friends,  who  commended  it."  (xipology  Concerning  the 
Earl  of  Essex,  Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  33G.)  And  thus  much, 
at  least,  as  to  Bacon's  having  made  sonnets  concerning 
the  queen.  Also  in  a  letter  to  the  poet  Sir  John  Davis, 
dated  March  28,  1G03,  Bacon  desires  Davis  to  interest 
himself  in  his  (Bacon's)  behalf,  and  closes  his  letter  thus  : 
"  So  desiring  you  to  be  good  to  concealed  jjoets,  I  con- 
tinue your  very  assured.    Fr.  Bacon." 

Mr.  Spedding  in  afoot-note  to  this  letter  says  :  "The 
allusion  to  '  concealed  poets  '  I  cannot  explain.  But  as 
Bacon  occasionally  wrote  letters  and  devices,  which  were 
to  be  fathered  by  Essex,  he  may  have  written  verses  for  a 
similar  purpose,  and  Davis  may  have  been  in  the  secret." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iii.,  p.  65.) 

Concerning  Elizabeth,  Bacon  says  :  "  Now  if  there  by 
any  severer  natures  that  shall  tax^  her  for  that  she  suffered 
herself,  and  was  very  willing  to  be  courted,  wooed,  and  to 
have  sonnets  made  in  her  commendation  ;   and  that  she 

'  These  words  "  new  made"  are  thus  used  by  Bacon  :  "  You  know 
the  difference  of  obliging  men  in  prosperity  and  men  in  adversity, 
as  much  as  the  sowing  upon  a  pavement  and  upon  a  furrow  new 
made."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  406.) 

'  Let  this  use  of  the  word  toy  be  noted  throughout. 

^  Note  please  this  use  of  the  word  "  tax"  throughout,  and  particu- 
larly in  the  plays. 


154  RELATIONAL  FACTS. 

continued  this  longer  than  was  decent  for  her  years  ;  not- 
withstanding, if  you  will  take  this  matter  at  the  best,  it  is 
not  without  singular  admiration,  being  much  like  unto 
that  which  we  find  in  fabulous  narrations  of  a  certain 
queen  in  the  Fortunate  Islands,  and  of  her  court  and 
fashions,  where  fair  purposes  and  love  making  was  allowed, 
but  lasciviousness  banished.  But  if  you  will  take  it  at  the 
worst,'  even  so  it  mounteth  to  a  most  high  admiration, 
considering  that  these  courtships  did  not  much  eclipse  her 
fame,^  and  not  at  all  her  majesty  ;  neither  did  they  make 
her  less  apt  for  government,  or  choke  with  the  affairs  and 
businesses  of  the  public,  for  such  passages  as  these  do  often 
entertain  the  tinie^  even  with  the  greatest  princes.  But 
to  make  an  end*  of  this  discourse,  certainly  this  princess 
was  good  and  moral,  and  such  she  would  be  acknowledged  ; 
she  detested  vice,  and  desired  to  jmrchase  fame  only  by 
honorable  courses.  .  .  .  Besides  she  was  not  a  little 
pleased  if  any  one  should  fortune  to  tell  her,  that  suppose  she 
had  lived  in  a  private  fortune,  yet  she  could  not  have  escaped 
without  some  note  of  excellency  and  singularity  in  her 
sex.  So  little  did  she  desire  to  borrow  or  be  beholding  to 
her  fortune  for  her  praise.  .  .  .  Thus  much  in  brief 
according  to  my  ability  :  but  to  say  the  truth,  the  only  eom- 
mender  of  this  lady's  virtues  is  time  ;  which  for  as  many 
ages  as  it  hath  run,  hath  not  yet  showed  us  one  of  the 
female  sex  equal  to  her  in  the  administration  of  a  king- 
dom," (Works,  voL  i.,  jj.  400,  Felicities  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth.) 

*  Concerning  this  form  of  expression  as  to  taking  matters  at  the 
best  or  at  tlie  worst,  we,  from  Timon  of  Athens,  Act  i.,  sc.  2,  p.  41, 
quote  as  follows  : 

"  1.  Lady.  My  lord,  you  take  us  even  at  the  best. 

"  Apem.  'Faith,  for  the  worst  is  filthy,  and  would  not  hold  taking, 
I  doubt  me." 

^  Note  this  word  "  fame"  in  every  phase  of  this  literature,  and  in 
Addison  see  the  essays  upon  the  subject  of  fame. 

=*  In  "  All's  Well  that  Ends  Well,"  Act  ii.,  sc.  2.  p.  304,  we  have  : 

"  Count.  I  play  the  noble  housewife  with  the  time,  to  entertain  it 
so  merrily  with  a  fool." 

■•  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  392,  we  have  :  "  I  promise  you 
this  was  enough  to  discourage  you  ;  but  did  you  make  an  end 
there  ?"  And  on  p.  348  :  "  For  after  Mr,  Greatheart  had  made  an 
end  with  Mr.  Fearing,  Mr.  Honest  began  to  tell  them  of  another, 
but  his  name  was  Mr.  Self  will. "  This  form  of  expression  was  quite 
common  with  Bacon, 


RELATIONAL  FACTS.  155 

He  also  says  :  "  For  Queen  Elizabeth  being  a  princess 
of  extreme  caution,  and  yet  one  that  loved  admiration 
above  safety  ;  and  knowing  the  declaration  of  a  successor 
might  in  point  of  safety  be  disputable,  but  in  point  of 
admiration  and  respect  assuredly  to  her  disadvantage  ; 
had,  from  the  beginning,  set  it  down  for  a  maxim  of 
estate,  to  impose  a  silence  touching  succession.  Neither 
was  it  only  reserved  as  a  secret  of  estate,  but  restrained  by 
severe  laws,  that  no  man  should  presume  to  give  opinion, 
or  maintain  argument  touching  the  same  :  so,  though  the 
evidence  of  right  drew  all  the  subjects  of  the  land  to  think 
one  thing  ;  yet  the  fear  of  danger  of  law  made  no  man 
privy  to  other's  thought."    (Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  887.) 

Hence  covertly  by  these  sonnets  was  breathed  forth,  not 
merely  the  wish,  but  the  inducements  that  should  move 
her  to  wed. 

He  also,  in  the  mentioned  Felicities  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
p.  397,  says  :  "  And  this  was  the  peculiar  glory  of  this 
princess,  that  she  had  no  props  or  supports  of  her  govern- 
ment, but  those  that  were  of  her*own  making.  She  had 
no  brother,  the  son  of  her  mother  ;  no  uncle,  none  other 
of  the  royal  blood  and  lineage  that  might  be  partner  in 
her  cares,  and  an  upholder  of  the  regal  dignity.  And  as 
for  those  whom  she  raised  to  honour,  she  carried  such  a  dis- 
creet hand  over  them,  and  so  interchanged  her  favours  as 
they  still  strived  in  emulation  and  desire  to  please  her 
best,  and  she  herself  remained  in  all  things  an  absolute 
princess.  Childless  she  was,  and  left  no  issue  behind  her  ; 
which  was  the  case  of  many  of  the  most  fortunate  princes, 
Alexander  the  Great,  Julius  Cajsar,  Trajan,  and  others. 
And  this  is  a  case  that  hath  been  often  controverted  and 
argued  on  both  sides  ;  whilst  some  hold  the  want  of  chil- 
dren to  be  a  diminution  of  our  happiness,  as  if  it  should 
be  an  estate  more  than  human  to  be  happy  both  in  our 
own  persons,  and  in  our  descendants  ;  but  others  do 
account  the  want  of  children  as  an  addition  to  earthly 
happiness  insomuch  as  that  happiness  may  be  said  to  com- 
plete, over  which  fortune  hath  no  power  when  we  are 
gone  :  which  if  we  leave  children  cannot  be." 

Let  this  last  thought  be  brought  into  relation  with  the 
subject-matter  itself  of  the  particular  sonnets  under  re- 
view. In  his  essay  entitled  "  Of  Prophecy"  he,  as  to 
Elizabeth's  successor,  says  :  "  The  trivial  prophecy  which 


156  RELATIONAL   FACTS. 

I  heard  when  I  was  a  child  and  Queen  Elizabeth  was  in 
the  flower  of  her  years,  was 

"  '  When  liempe  is  sponne 
England's  done.' 

Whereby  it  was  generally  conceived,  that  after  the 
princes  had  reigned  which  had  the  principal  letters  of  the 
word  "  hempe"  (which  were  Henry,  Edward,  Mary, 
Philip,  and  Elizabeth)  England  would  come  to  utter  con- 
fusion ;  which,  thanks  be  to  God,  is  verified  only  in  the 
change  of  the  name  ;  for  that  the  king's  style  is  no  more 
of  England,  but  of  Britain." 

Tliis  prophecy  may  have  sprung  from  circumstances 
mentioned  by  Bacon  in  his  History  of  Henry  the  Seventh 
as  to  this  particular  line  of  kings.  Henry  the  Seventh  had 
two  sons,  Arthur,  the  elder,  and  Henry,  who  succeeded 
him  as  Henry  the  Eighth,  Catharine  of  Aragon  before 
her  union  with  Henry  the  Eighth  was  married  to  Arthur, 
who  died  soon  after  and  Avithout  issue.  Her  parents, 
Ferdinand  and  Isabelhi  of  Spain,  had  opposed  her  marriage 
witii  Arthur,  fearing  trouble  to  the  English  throne  from 
Edward,  Earl  of  Warwick,  the  last  of  the  male  line  of  the 
Plantagenet  kings,  and  who  soon  after  was  put  to  death, 
and  with  the  view,  it  was  thought  (and  hence,  perhaps, 
the  projihecy),  of  making  possible  the  marriage  with 
Catharine,  the  Spanish  princess,  and  concerning  which 
Bacon  says  :  "  This  was  also  the  end,  not  only  of  this 
noble  and  commiserable  person,  Edward  the  Earl  of  War- 
wick, eldest  son  to  the  Duke  of  Clarence  ;  but  likewise  of 
the  line  male  of  the  Plantagenets,  which  had  flourished  in 
great  royalty  and  renown,  from  the  time  of  the  famous 
King  of  England,  King  Henry  the  Second.  Howbeit  it 
was  a  race  often  dipped  in  their  own  blood.  It  hath  re- 
mained since  only  transplanted  into  other  names,  as  well  of 
the  imperial  line,  as  of  other  noble  houses.  But  it  was 
neither  guilt  of  crime,  nor  reason  of  state,  that  could 
quench  the  envy  that  was  upon  the  king  for  this  execu- 
tion :  so  that  he  thought  good'  to  export  it  out  of  the 

'  The  expressions  "  thought  good  "  and  "  think  good  "  were  com- 
mon with  Bacon.  And  so  in  Tlie  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  368,  we 
have  :  "  If  you  think  good,  we  will  turn  in  there.'"  And  on  p.  304 
we  have  :  "  Now,  when  they  had  eaten  and  drank,  and  had  chatted  a 
little  longer,  their  guide  said  to  them.  The  day  wears  away  ;  if  you 


RELATIONAL  FACTS.  157 

land,  and  to  lay  it  upon  his  new  ally  Ferdinando,  King 
of  Spain.  For  these  two  kings  understanding  one  another 
at  half  a  word,  so  it  was  that  there  were  letters  showed 
out  of  Spain,  whereby  in  the  passage  concerning  the 
treaty  of  the  marriage,  Ferdinando  had  written  to  the 
king  in  plain  terms,  that  he  saw  no  assurance  of  his  suc- 
cession as  long  as  the  Earl  of  AVarwick  lived,  and  that  he 
was  loth  to  send  his  daughter  to  troubles  and  dangers. 
But  hereby,  as  the  king  did  in  some  part  remove  the  envy 
from  himself  ;  so  he  did  not  observe,  that  he  did  withal' 
bring  a  kind  of  malediction  and  infausting  upon  the  mar- 
riage, as  an  ill  prognostic  ;  which  in  event  so  far  proved 
true,  as  botlr  Prince  Arthur  enjoyed  a  very  small  time 
after  the  marriage,  and  the  Lady  Catharine  herself,  a  sad 
and  a  religious  woman,  long  after,  when  King  Henry  the 
Eighth's  resolution  of  a  divorce  from  her  was  first  made 
known  to  her,  used  some  words,  that  she  had  not  offended, 
but  it  was  a  judgment  of  God,  for  that  her  former  mar- 
riage was  made  in  blood  ;  meaning  that  of  the  Earl  of 
Warwick."     (Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  370.) 

Ilis  mentioned  essay  on  prophecy  was  not  written  until 
the  looked-for  event,  the  death  of  Elizabeth,  had  passed  ; 
and  hence  he  calls  the  prophecy  trivial,  though  true  to 
the  extent  of  the  fusing  of  crowns,  James  the  First  being 
the  first  joint  monarch  of  the  three  countries,  and  wliicli 
under  him  first  received  the  name  of  Great  Britain. 

But  read  what  he  says  in  Sonnet  14  as  to  the  effects  to 
truth  or  the  Keformed  faith,  in  default,  through  her,  of  an 
heir  to  the  throne.     He  says  : 

"  Not  from  tlie  stars  do  I  my  judgment  phick  ; 
And  yet,  melhinks,  I  have  astronomy, 
But  not  to  tell  of  good  or  evil  luck, 
Of  plagues,  of  dearths,  or  season's  quality  ; 
Nor  can  I  fortune  to  brief  minutes  tell, 
Pointing  to  each  his  thunder,  rain,  and  wind  ; 
Or  say,  with  princes  if  it  shall  go  well, 
By  oft  predict  that  I  in  heaven  find  : 
But  from  thine  eyes  my  knowledge  I  derive  ; 
And,  constant  stars,  in  them  I  read  such  art, 

think  good,  let  us  prepare  to  be  going."     Bacon  says  :  "  But  this  is 
a  bravery,  petulancy,  wantonness,  lustfulncss,  and  riotousness  of 
the  people,  to  do  as  they  think  good,  and  in  that  respect  the  more 
severely  to  be  punished."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  v.,  p.  89.) 
'  This  word  withal  is  found  throughout  these  writings. 


ISS  RELATIOlfAL   FACTS. 

As  truth  and  beauty  shall  together  thrive. 

If  from  thyself  to  store  thou  would'st  convert ; 

Or  else  of  thee  this  I  prognosticate, — ' 

Thy  end  is  truth's  and  beauty's  doom  and  date." 

As  there  has  thus  far  confessedly  been  no  relationalized 
interpretation  given  to  the  sonnets,  as  well  as  to  make  sure 
to  the  reader  that  we  mistake  not  here  our  point,  we 
further  introduce  Sonnet  15,  wherein  Bacon  tells  the 
queen  that  he  will  by  his  verse  engraft  her  new,  as  time 
takes  from  her,  though  in  the  one  following  he  again  calls 
her  mind  back  to  the  subject.     He  says  : 

"  When  I  consider,  everything  that  grows 
Holds  in  perfection  but  a  little  moment  ; 
That  this  huge  stage  presenteth  naught  but  shows, 
Whereon  the  stars  in  secret  influence  comment  ; 
When  I  perceive  tliat  men  as  plants  increase, 
Cheered  and  check 'd  even  by  the  selfsame  sky, 
Vaunt  in  their  youthful  sap,  at  height  decrease. 
And  wear  their  brave  state  out  of  memory  ; 
Then  the  conceit  of  this  inconstant  stay 
Sets  you  most  rich  in  youth  before  my  sight, 
Where  wasteful  time  debateth  with  decaj% 
To  change  your  day  of  youth  to  sullied  night ; 
And,  all  in  war  with  time,  for  love  of  you, 
As  he  takes  from  you,  I  engraft  you  new," 

But  in  Sonnet  16  he  says  : 

' '  But  wherefore  do  not  you  a  mightier  way 
Make  war  upon  this  bloody  tyrant,  Time, 
And  fortify  yourself  in  your  decay 
With  means  more  blessed  than  my  barren  rhyme  ? 
Now  stand  you  on  the  top'^  of  happj^  hours  ; 
And  many  maiden  gardens,  yet  unset, 
With  virtuous  wisli  would  bear  your  living  flowers. 
Much  liker^  than  your  painted  counterfeit  : 

'  This  word  "  prognostic"  Bacon  uses  in  the  foregoing  quotation 
concerning  the  Earl  of  Warwick. 

^  Bacon  says  :  "  But  princes  upon  a  far  other  reason  are  best  inter- 
preted by  their  natures,  and  private  persons  by  their  ends  ;  for 
princes  being  at  tlie  top  of  human  desires,  they  have  for  the  most 
part  no  particular  ends  whereto  they  aspire,  by  distance  from  which 
a  man  might  take  measure  and  scale  of  the  rest  of  their  actions  and 
desires  ;  which  is  one  of  tlie  causes  that  maketh  their  hearts  more 
inscrutable."  Promus  1006.  (Long  and  intricate  [is  tlie  story]  ; 
but  I  will  trace  the  top-most  points  of  things— e.e.  the  chief  facts.) 

^^s  to  this  word  "liker, "  we  from  Bacon  quote  as  follows: 
"  For  I  am  sure  no  man  was  liker  to  be  a  pensioner  than  Somerset, 
considering  his  mercenary  nature,  his  great  undertaking  for  Spain 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  159 

So  should  the  lines  of  life  that  life  repair, 

Which  this,  time's  pencil  or  my  pupil  pen, 

Neither  in  inward  worth  nor  outward  fair, 

Can  make  you  live  yourself  in  eyes  of  men.' 

To  give  away  yourself,  keeps  yourself  still  ; 

And  you  must  live,  drawn  by  your  own  sweet  skill." 

Thougli  Sonnet  17,  next  quoted,  is  upon  the  same  sub- 
ject, it  embraces  much  flattery,  yet  tame  in  comparison 
with  what  the  queen  was  pleased  to  receive,  as  we  shall 
see.     He  says  : 

"  Who  will  believe  my  verse  in  time  to  come. 
If  it  were  fill'd  with  your  most  high  desert  ? 
Though  yet.  Heaven  knows,  it  is  but  as  a  tomb, 
Which  liides  your  life,  and  shows  not  half  your  parts. 
If  I  could  write  the  beauty  of  your  eyes. 
And  in  fresh  numbers,  number  all  your  graces. 
The  age  to  come  would  say,  '  This  poet  lies  ;- 
Such  heavenly  touches  ne'er  touch'd  earthly  faces.' 
So  should  my  papers,  yellow 'd  with  their  age. 
Be  scorn'd,  like  old  men  of  less  truth  than  tongue  ; 
And  your  true  rights  be  term'd  a  poet's  rage, 
And  stretched  metre  of  an  antique  song  : 
But  were  some  child  of  yours  alive  that  time. 
You  should  live  twice, — in  it,  and  in  my  rhyme." 

Among  the  younger  associates  of  Lord  Bacon  may  be 
mentioned  Elizabeth's  great  favorite — Robert  Devereux, 
afterward  Earl  of  Essex  ;  Bacon's  cousin  Robert  Cecil, 
son  of  Lord  Burghley,  afterward  in  tbe  reign  of  James 
made  Earl  of  Salisbury  ;  and  George  Villiers,  a  favorite  of 
James',  and  later  and  to  the  end  of  his  reign  the  all-power- 
ful Duke  of  Buckingham. 

Walter  Devereux,  the  first  Earl  of  Essex  and  father  of 
Robert,  was  a  distinguished  but  unfortunate  nobleman, 
whose  history  may  possibly  have  given  some  coloring  to 

in  the  match,  and  his  favour  with  his  majesty."  (Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  v.,  p.  265.)  And  in  sub.  238  of  Bacon's  Natural  History  he 
says  :  "  We  see  that  beasts  have  those  parts  which  they  count  the 
instruments  of  speech  (as  lips,  teeth,  etc.)  liker  unto  men  than 
birds." 

'  Bacon  says  :  "  This  only  I  will  add,  that  learned  men  forgotten 
in  state,  and  not  living  in  the  eyes  of  men,  are  like  the  images  of 
Cassius  and  Brutus  in  the  funeral  of  Junia,"  etc.  (Works,  vol. 
i.,  p.  167.)  And  on  p.  156  he  says  :  "  Augustus  lived  ever  in  men's 
eyes." 

'  Promus,  564.  Fair  pleasing  speech  true.  (Er.  Ad.  421.  Poets 
tell  many  lies.)    Promus.  565.  It  is  nought  if  it  be  in  verse. 


160  RELATIONAL   FACTS. 

the  play  of  Hamlet,  at  least  as  to  the  mousetrap  or  side 
issue  introduced  into  it.'  Robert,  who  became  the  second 
Earl  of  Essex,  was  born  at  Netherwood,  Herefordshire, 
November  10th,  1567.  He  was  educated  at  Trinity  Col- 
lege, Cambridge,  between  the  years  1577  and  1581.  He  is 
said  to  have  possessed  a  handsome  person,  and  with  many 
accomplishments  appeared  at  court  in  158-4,  and  so  not 
long  before  the  play  of  Hamlet  is  supposed  to  have  been 
written,  and  hence  the  story  of  his  father's  troubles  was 
doubtless  familiar  to  Bacon,  though  he  does  not  appear  to 
have  had  personal  acquaintance  with  Essex  until  some  few 
years  later.  We  have  thought  that  this  side  issue  may 
possibly  have  been  designed  to  tent  the  conscience  of  and 
to  awe  Leicester,  Elizabeth's  then  favorite,  in  its  iierform- 
ance,  and  whose  name  was  associated  with  the  taking  off 
of  the  elder  Essex ;  and  that  this  method  of  introducing 
side  issues  into  plays  may  have  been  the  machine  or  engine 
referred  to  in  our  quotation  from  Defoe  in  earlier  pages, 
but  quickly  abandoned  by  reason  of  its  wrought  furor  in 
high  places.  This  side  issue  was,  at  least,  no  part  of  the 
foundation  story  of  this  play,  as  presented  in  1514,  by  the 
Danish  historian.  However  this  may  be,  let  the  word 
"machine,"  as  used  in  Hamlet's  lines  to  Ophelia,  Act 
2,  sc.  2,  p,  250,  be  noted,  wherein  he  says  : 

"  Doubt  thou  the  stars  are  fire, 
Doubt  that  the  sun  doth  move  : 
Doubt  truth  to  be  a  liar  ; 
But  never  doubt  I  love. 

0,  dear  Ophelia,  I  am  ill  at  these  numbers  ;  I  have  not  art  to  reckon 
my  (groans  ;  but  that  I  love  thee  best,  O  most  best !  believe  it. 
Adieu. 

Thine  evermore,  most  dear  lady,  whilst  this  machine  is 
to  him,  Hamlet." 

Does  the  word  "  machine"  as  here  used  allude  to  the 
mentioned  device  "to  make  the  devil  unmask,"  or  does  it 
allude  to  the  tables  or  mechanical  methods  of  the  Great 
Instauration  ?  If  this  word  has  not  some  covert  meaning, 
what,  please,  is  its  meaning?  We  indeed  find  Bacon 
alluding  to  his  philosophy  as  a  machine.  He  says  :  "  But 
if  any  one  require  works  immediately,  I  say,  without  any 
imposture,  that  I  a  man  not  old,  frail  in  health,  involved 

'  See  Britannka  article  as  to  Walter  Devereux. 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  161 

in  civil  studies,  coming  to  the  obscurest  of  all  subjects 
without  guide  or  light,  have  done  enough,  if  I  have  con- 
structed the  machine  itself  and  the  fabric,  though  1  may 
not  have  employed  or  moved  it."    (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  5o0.) 

Again,  had  Bacon  in  early  life  tendencies  to  love  melan- 
choly by  reason  of  matrimonial  inclinings,  quenched  in 
consequence  of  his  great  felt  mission,  and  to  which  he 
made  all  else  subservient.'  Ample  reasons  may  be  found 
in  these  writings  to  believe  this.'  It  was  evidently  the 
custom  of  the  author  of  the  plays,  whoever  he  may  have 
been,  to  select  some  historic  framework,  story,  or  transpired 
events  so  in  harmony  with  his  own  existing  mental^  states 
as  to  permit  him,  in  an  underplot,  to  weave  them  in  con- 
junction with  the  chosen  form  or  structure.  And  hence 
the  outside  and  inside  of  most  if  not  all  of  the  plays. 

Concerning  the  words  "  sun"  and  "  stars,"  as  used  m 
the  foregoing  quotation,  it  may  be  said  that  Bacon  be- 
lieved not  in  the  Oopernican  system,  and  hence,  contrary 
to  the  accepted  opinion,  he  believed  that  the  sun  and 
planets  moved  round  the  earth  as  a  centre.  He  says  : 
"  The  earth  then  being  stationary  (for  that  I  now  think 
the  truer  opinion),  it  is  manifest  that  the  heaven  revolves 
in  a  diurnal  motion,  the  measure  whereof  is  the  space  of 

1  He  at  least,  in  some  private  notes  made  in  1608,  of  himself  says  : 
"  When  I  was  at  Gorhambury  I  was  taken  much  w'''  my  symptome 
of  melancholy  and  doubt  of  p^sent  perill.  I  found  it  hrst  by  occa- 
sion of  soppe  w">  sack  taken  midde  meale  and  it  contynued  w"'  me 
that  night  and  y"  next  mornyug.  but  note  it  cleared  and  went  from 
me  without  purge  and  I  turned  light  and  disposed  of  myself." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iv.,  p.  57.)  And  on  p.  79  he  says  :  ''  I  have 
found  now  twyse  upon  amendm'  of  my  fortune  disposition  to 
melancholy  and  distast,  specially  the  same  happenyng  against  y« 
lono-  vacacion  when  company  failed  and  business  both,  for  upon  my 
Solficito^'  place  I  grew  indisposed  and  inclined  to  superstition.  Now 
upon  Milles  pace  I  find  a  relaps  unto  my  old  symptome  as  I  was 
wont  to  have  it  many  years  agoe,  as  after  s,leGf>es  ;  strife  at  meats, 
straugnesse,  clowdes,"  etc.  And  on  pp.  53  and  54  it  will  appear  that 
he  was  his  own  physician  in  this  malady.  Let  these  notes  be  read 
in  connection  with  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy.  As  to  the  secret 
nature  of  these  notes  and  not  published  until  1848,  see  pp.  18-37. 
These  notes  were  in  his  own  hand.  .  -c    ■,    w  n  .. 

2  In  this  connection  let  the  play  of     All's  Well  that  Ends  Well 
be  looked  into  a  little.     Its  character  of  thought,  as  well  as  its  style 
of  expression  show  it  to  have  been  written  at  two  different  and  dis- 
tant periods  of  the  author's  life,  its  latter  portion  being  evidently 
the  work  of  later  years. 
6 


1G2  KELATIONAL  FACTS. 

twenty-four  hours  or  thereabouts,  the  direction  from  east 
to  west,  the  axis  of  revchition  certain  points  (which  they 
call  poles)  north  and  south."  (Phil.  \Yorks,  vol.  v.,  p. 
551.) 

He  believed  that  the  stars  were  self-sustaining  fire,'  and 
that  though  flame  at  the  surface  of  the  earth  is  not  self- 
sustained,  it  is  so  at  the  height  of  the  moon,  and  that 
when  pure  it  has  a  tendency  to  unite  and  gather  into  globes. 
He  says  :  "  In  the  air  next  the  earth,  flame  only  lives  for  a 
moment,  and  at  once  perishes.  But  when  the  air  begins 
to  be  cleared  of  the  exhalations  of  the  earth  and  well 
rarefied,  the  nature  of  flame  makes  divers  trials  and  ex- 
periments to  attain  consistency  therein,  and  sometimes 
acquires  a  certain  duration,  not  by  succession  as  with  us, 
but  in  identity  ;  as  happens  for  a  time  in  some  of  the 
lower  comets,  which  are  of  a  kind  of  middle  nature  be- 
tween successive  and  consistent  flame  ;  it  does  not,  how- 
ever, become  fixed  or  constant,  till  we  come  to  the  body 
of  the  moon.^     There  flame  ceases  to  be  extinguishable, 

'  Bacon  says  :  "  For  the  fire  of  the  stars  is  pure,  perfect,  and 
native  ;  whereas  our  fire  is  degenerate,  like  Vulcan  thrown  from 
heaven  and  halting  with  the  fall.  For  if  a  man  observe  it,  fire  as 
we  have  it  here  is  out  of  its  place,  trembling,  surrounded  by  con- 
traries, needy,  depending  for  sustenance  upon  fuel,  and  fugitive. 
Whereas  in  heaven  fire  exists  in  its  true  place,  removed  from  the 
assault  of  any  contrarj^  body,  constant,  sustained  br  itself  and  things 
like  itself,  and  performing  its  proper  operations  freely  and  without 
molestation."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  538.)  In  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p. 
425,  and  see,  please,  the  article,  we  have  :  "  But  if  we  yet  rise  higher, 
and  consider  the  fixed  stars  as  so  many  vast  oceans  of  flame,  that  are 
each  of  them  attended  with  a  different  set  of  planets,  and  still  dis- 
cover new  firmaments  and  new  lights,  that  are  sunk  farther  in  those 
unfathomable  depths  of  ether,  so  as  not  to  be  seen  by  the  strongest 
of  our  telescopes,  we  are  lost  in  such  a  labyrinth  of  suns  and 
worlds,  and  confounded  with  the  immensity  and  magnificence  of 
nature." 

^  Of  his  theory  Bacon  says  :  "  It  denies  that  the  moon  is  either  a 
watery  or  a  dense  of'  a  solid  body  ;  afiirming  that  it  is  of  a  flamy 
nature,  though  slow  and  weak,  as  being  the  first  rudiment  and  last 
sediment  of  celestial  flame  ;  flame  admitting  (as  regards  den.sity),  no 
less  than  air  and  liquids,  of  immeasurable  degrees."  (Phil.  Works, 
vol.  v.,  p.  550.)  As  "  The  Mortal  Moon"  Bacon  regarded  himself  as 
this  first  rudiment.  In  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  129,  we  have:  "It  is 
to  this  majestic  presence  of  God  we  may  apply  those  beautiful  expres- 
sions in  holy  writ  :  '  Behold  even  to  the  moon,  and  it  shineth  not  ; 
yea,  the  stars  are  not  pure  in  his  sight.'  The  light  of  the  sun,  and 
all  the  glories  of  the  world  in  which  we  live,  are  but  as  weak  and 
sickly  glimmerings,  or  rather  darkness  itself,  in  comparison  of  those 


EELATIONAL   FACTS.  163 

and  in  some  way  or  other  supports  itself  ;  but  yet  such 
flame  is  weak  and  without  vigour,  having  little  radiation, 
and  being  neither  vivid  in  its  own  nature,  nor  much  ex- 
cited by  the  contrary  nature.  Neither  is  it  pure  and  entire, 
but  spotted  and  crossed  by  the  substance  of  ether  (such  as 
it  exists  there),  which  mixes  with  it.  Even  in  the  region 
of  Mercury  flame  is  not  very  happily  placed,  seeing  that 
by  uniting  together  it  makes  but  a  little  planet ;  and  that 
with  a  great  perturbation,  variety,  and  fluctuation  of 
motions,  like  ignis  faUms,  laboring  and  struggling,  and 
not  bearing  to  be  separated  from  the  protection  of  the  sun 
except  for  a  little  distance.  When  we  come  to  the  region 
of  Venus,  the  flamy  nature  begins  to  grow  stronger  and 
brigliter,  and  to  collect  itself  into  a  globe  of  considerable 
size  ;  yet  one  which  itself  also  waits  on  tlie  sun  and  cannot 
bear  to  be  far  away  from  him.  In  the  region  of  the  sun, 
flame  is  as  it  were  on  its  throne,  midway  between  the 
flames  of  the  planets,  stronger  lik(!vvise  and  more  vibrating 
than  the  flames  of  the  fixed  stars,  by  reason  of  the  greater 
reaction,  and  exceeding  intensity  of  union."  (Phil.  Works, 
vol.  v.,  p.  548.) 

In  Love's  Labour's  I^ost,  Act  v.,  sc.  2,  p.  445,  we  have  : 

"  Ros.  My  face  is  but  a  moon,  and  clouded  too.' 
"  King.  Blessed  are  clouds,  to  do  as  such  clouds  do  ! 
Vouchsafe,  bright  moon,  and  these  thy  stars,  to  shine 
(Those  clouds  remov'd)  upon  our  watery  eyne. 

"  Eos.  O,  vain  petitioner  !  beg  a  greater  matter  ;* 
Thou  now  request'st  but  moonshine  in  the  water.^ 

splendors  which  encompass  the  throne  of  God."  In  the  play  of 
Henry  VIII.,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  290,  we  have  : 

"  Kincj.  If  we  did  think 

His  contemplation  were  above  the  earth. 
And  fix'd  on  spiritual  object,  he  should  still 
Dwell  in  his  musings  ;  but  I  am  afraid 
His  thinkings  are  below  the  moon,  not  worth 
His  serious  considering." 

Promus,  629.  To  cast  beyond  the  moon. 

■  Note  the  emphasis  upon  the  moon  throughout  and  see  sonnet 
concerning  "  the  mortal  moon." 

^  The  expression  "  a  greater  matter"  was  common  with  Bacon. 
Promus,  988.  {In  great  matters  it  is  enough  to  have  willed  to  achieve 
them.     'Tis  not  in  mortals  to  command  success.) 

*  Promus,  648.  For  the  moonshine  in  the  water. 


1G4  RELATIONAL   FACTS. 

"  King.  Then,  in  our  measure  but  vouchsafe  one  change  : 
Thou  bid'st  me  beg  ;  this  begging  is  not  strange. 

"  Ros.  Play,  music,  then  :  nay,  you  must  do  it  soon. 

{Music  plays. 
Not  yet  ; — no  dance  : — thus  change  I  like  the  moon. 

"  King.  Will  you  not  dance  '?     How  come  you  thus  estrang'd  ? 

"  Ros.  You  took  the  moon  at  full  ;  but  now  she's  chang'd.* 

"  King.  Yet  still  she  is  the  moon,  and  I  the  man." 

Concerning  the  play  of  Hamlet,  it  may  be  said  that  as 
originally  written  it  was  much  shorter  than  now. 

Hudson  says  :  "As  to  the  general  character  of  the  ad- 
ditions in  the  enlarged  Hamlet,  it  is  to  be  noted  that  these 
are  mostly  in  the  contemplative  and  imaginative  parts  ; 
very  little  being  added  in  the  way  of  action  and  incident. 
And  in  respect  to  the  former  there  is  indeed  no  comparison 
between  the  two  copies  :  the  difference  is  literally  im- 
mense, and  of  stich  a  kind  as  evinces  a  most  astonishing 
growth  of  intellectual  power  fnid  resource.  In  the  earlier 
text,  we  have  little  more  than  a  naked,  though  in  the 
main,  well-ordered  and  firm  knit  skeleton,  which  in  the 
latter  is  everywhere  replenished  and  glorified  with  large 
rich  volumes  of  thought  and  poetry  ;  where  all  that  is 
incidental  or  circumstantial  is  made  subordinate  to  the  liv- 
ing energies  of  mind  and  soul."    (Hudson,  vol.  x.,  p.  177.) 

Seven  years  following  Shakespeare's  death  and  in  1623 
appeared  the  great  first  folio  of  these  writings,  though  he 
himself  is  said  to  have  done  nothing  either  toward  collect- 
ing or  perpetuating  them.  Still,  tTie  folio  contains  volu- 
minous passages  of  thought  not  found  in  the  quartos, 
whi'le  like  passages  in  the  quartos  are  wholly  omitted 
from  the  folio.  Who,  then,  but  an  author  would  have 
arrogated  to  himself  the  right  to  insert  or  interpolate 
matter  like  the  following  into  this  play,  and  which,  as 
Hudson  tells  ns,  is  nowhere  found  save  in  the  folio  of  1623. 
(Hudson,  vol.  x.,  pp.  260,  261,  and  note  33.) 

"  Ros.  Nay,  their  endeavour  keeps  in  the  wonted  pace  :  but  there 
is,  sir,  an  aiery  of  children,  little  eyases,  that  cry  out  on  the  top  of 
question,  and  are  most  tyrannically  clapp'd  for't  :  these  are  now  the 
fashion  ;  and  so  berattle  the  common  stages  (so  they  call  them),  that 
many  wearing  rapiers  are  afraid  of  goose  quills,  and  dare  scarce  come 
thither. 

"  Ham.  What !  are  they  children  ?  who  maintains  them  ?  how  are 

*  Promus,  892.  ("  Laconicas  lunas."  [You  plead.]  Spartan 
moons — because  the  Spartans,  when  asked  to  give  the  help  promised, 
used  to  plead  the  phase  of  the  moon,  it  not  being  full.) 


RELATIONAL   FACTS. 


105 


they  escoted  ?  Will  they  pursue  the  quality  no  longer  than  they 
can  sino-  ?  will  they  not  say  afterwards,  if  they  should  grow  them- 
selves t°o  common  players  (as  it  is  most  like,  if  their  means  are  no 
better),  their  writers  do  them  wrong,  to  make  them  exclami  agamst 
their  own  succession  ?  ,  ^  .,,     -^  j  .u 

"  Ros  'Faith,  there  has  been  much  to  do  on  both  sides  ;  and  the 
nation  liolds  it  no  sin,  to  tarre  them  on  to  controversy  :  there  was, 
for  a  while  no  money  bid  for  argument,  unless  the  poet  and  the 
player  went  to  cuffs  in  the  question.' 

"  Ham.  Is  it  possible  ?  n,     • 

"  Guil.  O  !  there  has  been  much  throwing  about  of  brams. 
"  Ham.  Do  the  boys  carry  it  away  ?  ■,,.■,      , 

"  Bos.  Ay,  that  they  do,  my  lord  ;  Hercules  and  his  load  too. 

Again,  who  but  an  author  wouhl  have  assumed  the  right 
to  have  stricken  from  this  play  the  following  twenty-two 
most  carefully  wrought  lines,  and  which,  as  Hudson  tells 
us,  are  wholly  omitted  from  the  folio.  (Hudson,  vol.  x., 
pp.  226,  227,  and  note  3.) 

"  This  heavy-headed  revel,  east  and  west. 
Makes  us  traduc'd  and  tax'd  of  other  nations  : 
They  clepe  us  drunkards,  and  with  swinish  phrase 
Soil  our  addition  ;  and.  indeed,  it  takes 
From  our  achievements,  though  performed  at  height, 
The  pith  and  marrow  of  our  attribute. 
So,  oft  it  chances  in  particular  men. 
That,  for  some  vicious  mole  of  nature  in  them, 
As,  in  their  birth  (wherein  they  are  not  guilty, 
Since  nature  cannot  choose  his  origin)  ; 
By  their  o'ergrowth  of  some  complexion. 
Oft  breaking  down  the  pales  and  forts  of  reason  ; 
Or  by  some  habit,  that  too  much  o'erleavens 
The  form  of  plausive  manners  ;— that  these  men,— 
Carrying.  I  say,  the  stamp  of  one  defect. 
Being  nature's  livery,  or  fortune's  star, — 
Their  virtues  else,  be  they  as  pure  as  grace. 
As  infinite  as  man  may  undergo. 
Shall  in  the  general  censure  take  corruption 
From  that  particular  fault  :  the  dram  of  base 
Doth  all  the  noble  substance  often  dout. 
To  his  own  scandal." 

Who  struck  these  admirable  lines  from  the  great  first 
folio.?  and  what  may  have  been  the  occasion  therefor? 
Did  the  feeling  exist  with  Lord  Bacon,  following  his 
troubles  that  the  "  vicious  mole'^  of  nature"  here  referred 

'  See  our  quotation  from  Charles  Reade,  p.  109. 

»  In  the  Defoe  History  of  Apparitions,  T.  £d.,  pp.  280  and  287, 
may  be  found  this  same  use  of  the  word  "  mole,"  as  applied  to  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  where  it  is  called  a  token  or  mole.     On 


166  KELATIONAL   FACTS. 

to  might  some  day  be  taken  as  alluding  to  himself,  and 
hence  omitted?  In  this  play  the  crowning  cause  of  havoc 
takes  its  origin  in  the  mismanagement  of  sex,  and  begins 
in  the  adulterous  intercourse  and  murder  of  the  king, 
Hamlet's  father.  Sex,  according  to  the  Baconian  philoso- 
phy, sways,  and  if  impure,  corrupts  every  fortress,  being 
stronger  than  kings  whose  crowns  it  sways.  We  judge 
that  the  Apocryphal  gospels  had  much  influence  upon  the 
mind  of  Lord  Bacon,  and  especially  ch.  8  of  the  Wisdom 
of  Solomon  and  chs.  3  and  4  of  1  Esdras.  His  language 
is  much  enriched  from  these  sources. 

But  to  return  :  upon  the  mentioned  appearance  of  Essex 
at  court,  in  1584,  honors  were  showered  upon  him  without 
stint,  and  to  an  extent  that  erelong  provoked  both  the 
jealousy  and  envy  of  other,  and  especially  of  elder  and  abler 
courtiers  ;  and  among  those  somewhat  piqued  may  be 
mentioned  the  Cecils,  Raleigh,  Cobham,  the  Earl  of  Not- 
tingham, and  others.  In  1585  he  accompanied  the  Earl 
of  Leicester,  then  favorite  to  the  queen,  to  Holland,  and 
there  distinguished  himself  at  the  battle  of  Zutphen.  In 
]587  he  was  appointed  Master  of  the  Horse,  and  the  next 
year  he  was  made  General  of  the  Horse  and  was  installed 
Knight  of  the  Garter.  Upon  Leicester's  death,  in  1588,  he 
immediately  succeeded  him  as  chief  favorite  of  the  queen. 
In  1589  he,  without  the  queen's  consent,  joined  the  ex- 
pedition of  Drake  and  Norris  against  Portugal,  but  by  a 
peremptory  letter  from  her  Avas  required  to  return.  He 
soon  regained  the  royal  smiles,  in  which  he  seems  now  to 
have  thought  he  had  property,  and  to  be  entitled  to  claim 
their  exclusive  movements.  Soon  after  occurred  his  duel 
with  _Sir  Charles  Blount,  Lord  Montjoy,  a  rival  to  whom 
the  queen  had  shown  marks  of  favor.  He  in  this  encounter 
was  not  only  disarmed,  but  received  a  wound  in  the  thigh. 
In  1590  he,  without  the  knowledge  of  the  queen,  married 
the  widow  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  and  as  long  as  possible 
kept  the  event  from  her,  but  whose  rage  upon  being  in- 

p.  287  it  is  called  a  token,  thus  :  "  Fame,  though  with  some  privacy, 
says,  that  the  secret  token  was  an  incestuous  breach  of  modesty 
between  the  duke  and  a  certain  lady  too  nearly  related  to  him, 
which  it  surprised  the  duke  to  hear  of  ;  and  that  as  he  thought  he 
had  good  reason  to  be  sure  tlie  lady  would  not  tell  it  of  herself,  so 
he  thought  none  but  the  devil  could  tell  it  besides  her  ;  and  this 
astonished  him  so  that  he  was  very  far  from  receiving  the  man 
slightingly  or  laughing  at  his  message." 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  167 

formed  of  it  is  said  to  have  known  no  bounds.     In  1591 
he  was  appointed  to  the  command  of  a  force  auxiliary  to 
one  formerly  sent  by  Elizabeth  to  assist  Henry  the  Fourth 
of  France  against  the  Spaniards.     Though  showing  gal- 
lantry, he  here  again  made  a  singular  display  of  his  want 
of  discretion  by  sending  a  challenge  to  the  Governor  of 
Rouen  to  meet  him  in  single  combat.     lie  was  recalled 
from  the  command  in  January,  1592.     In  the  Portugal 
and  Lisbon  campaign   he  also   attempted  this   worn-out 
spirit  of  chivalry.     He  now  for  a  few  years  spent  most  of 
his  time  at  court,  where  on  account  of  his  own  personal 
popularity,  as  well  as  his  position  as  queen's  favorite,  he 
had  much  influence.     In  1596  Philip  the  Second  of  Spain 
was  making  preparations  for  another  invasion  of  England, 
and  so  a  counter  expedition,  favored  by  Essex,  though  op- 
posed by  Lord  Burghley,  was  undertaken  against  Spam. 
The  expedition  sailed  from  Plymouth,  June  1,  1596,  and 
was  successful  in  defeating  the  Spanish  fleet,  capturing 
and  pillaging  Cadiz,  and  destroying  fifty-three  merchant 
vessels.     He  here  broke  through  the  express  orders  given 
by  the  queen  with  reference  to  the  command,  and  by  this 
means  claimed  the   glory  of   the   enterprise,    and   again 
offered  to  maintain  his  right  to  the  honor  in  single  combat 
against  Lord   Howard,    afterward  Earl   of   Nottingham, 
then  in  command,  or  against  his  sons  or  any  of  his  kin- 
dred.    (See,  please,  Hume's  History  of  England,  vol.  in., 

pp.  495-501).  ,     .    -,. 

At  about  this  time  a  change  in  the  queen's  feelings 
toward  him  became  apparent.  She  not  only  chided  hini, 
but  forbade  his  publishing  anything  in  justification  of  his 
conduct.  His  growing  popularity  with  the  people,  to- 
gether with  his  now  tendencies  to  assert  his  independence, 
coupled  with  the  feeling  that  all  along  his  professed  at- 
tachments had  been  more  of  a  mere  selfish  interest  than 
of  any  real  regard,  had,  doubtless,  much  to  do  with  her 
now  moods  towards  him.  The  threatened  rupture  his 
friend  Bacon  endeavored  to  avert  by  writing  him  a  long 
and  earnest  but  friendly  letter  of  advice,  and  which  shows 
earlier  advice  of  a  like 'nature  upon  the  subject.  To  this 
letter  we  shall  later  have  occasion  to  refer.  The  advice 
seems  for  a  time  to  have  been  heeded  and  the  cloud  averted, 
and  in  the  following  year  he  was  appointed  Master  of  an- 
other expedition  against  Spain,  which  sailed  from  Ply- 


168  RELATIOIfAL  FACTS. 

mouth  July  9th,  1597  ;  and  though  some  trifling  successes 
were  gained,  yet  as  the  Plate  fleet  escaped  him  it  was  in 
the  main  a  failure,  and  would  have  been  wholly  so  but 
for  the  taking  of  three  Spanish  ships,  which  were  said  to 
be  prize  sufficient  to  defray  the  expenses  of  the  expedi- 
tion. Upon  his  return  he  was  again  met  with  reproaches 
from  the  queen.  At  about  this  time  Bacon's  cousin,  Sir 
Eobert  Cecil,  then  much  connected  with  Ealeigh,  was  by 
the  queen  made  Secretary  of  State,  in  preference  to  Sir 
Thomas  Bodley,  urged  by  Essex  for  that  high  position. 
She  also  conferred  upon  Lord  Howard  the  earldom  of  Not- 
tingham, for  the  mentioned  services  at  Cadiz,  the  chief 
honor  of  which  was,  as  we  have  seen,  claimed  by  Essex  ; 
thus  showing  her  intention  not  to  continue  his  ascendency 
over  his  rivals.  He  had  all  along,  in  opposition  to  his 
friend  Bacon's  advice,  thought  he  could  get  his  ends 
served  best  by  opposition  and  arrogance,  and  to  which 
policy  he  had  of  late  resorted.  He  now  doubtless  had  his 
opinion  somewhat  confirmed,  as  the  queen  appointed  him 
Earl  Marshal  of  England.  Some  year  or  more  later,  and 
in  1599,  England  was  again  threatened  with  a  Spanish 
invasion,  but  by  reason  of  Spain's  weakened  forces  it  took 
now  a  somewhat  different  form.  The  weak  point  in  Eliz- 
abeth's government  was  Ireland,  and  here  Spanish  influ- 
ences were  centring.  Though  Ireland  had  been  under 
the  dominion  of  England  for  upward  of  four  centuries, 
hitherto  it  can  be  said  to  have  been  so  little  more  than 
in  name.  It  yielded  no  revenue,  but  annually  absorbed 
much  of  England's  revenue  in  its  management  and  de- 
fence ;  and  its  government  had  been  a  puzzle  to  the  wisest 
of  English  statesmen. 

Roman  influences  seemed  unalterably  fixed  in  the  minds 
of  its  rude  population,  and  the  Jesuits  were  ever  scheming 
and  negotiating  with  Spanish  ministers  for  men  and  money 
with  which  to  restore  England  to  the  ancient  or  Eoman 
faith,  and  now  that  portion  of  Ireland  known  as  Ulster, 
and  backed  by  promised  aid  from  Spain,  was  again  in 
rebellion. 

With  this  puzzle,  the  management  of  Ireland,  Essex 
now  sought  to  connect  himself,  though  against  the  advice 
of  his  truest  friends,  Bacon  included.  Elizabeth  had  in- 
tended Lord  Montjoy  to  command  the  expedition  to  sup- 
press this  outbreak  ;  but  Essex  sought,  and  she  finally, 


RELATIOKAL  FACTS.  169 

though  reluctantly,  it  is  said,  conferred  upon  him  the 
management  of  the  enterprise  and  created  him  Lord 
Deputy  of  Ireland,  with  powers  greater  than  had  before 
been  conferred  upon  that  office,  and  in  the  management  of 
which  his  father  had,  in  157G,  closed  his  sad  career. 

In  a  conference  with  the  queen  previous  to  the  appoint- 
ment she  gave  him  some  taunting  words,  and  which  pos- 
sibly may  have  concerned  his  father's  unfortunate  experi- 
ence. However  this  may  have  been,  he  with  a  gesture 
not  only  of  anger,  but  of  contempt,  turned  his  back  upon 
her.  She  thereupon  gave  him  a  slap  upon  his  face,  and 
he  left  her  presence,  swearing  that  such  an  insult  he  would 
not  have  taken  even  from  Henry  the  Eighth,  her  father. 
Eor  some  time  he  sulked  and  kept  from  court,  but  finally, 
as  stated,  received  the  appointment. 

Essex's  enemies  had  studied  his  character,  and  knowing 
the  difficulties  as  well  as  the  discretion  required  in  the 
mentioned  undertaking,  instead  of,  as  heretofore  opposing, 
they  now  in  every  way  aided  him  in  spreading  his  wings, 
and  in  raising  the  expectations  of  the  queen  by  lauding 
every  feature  of  the  undertaking,  thinking  thus  in  his 
failure  to  be  the  quicker  rid  of  him  and  of  his,  of  late, 
too  fulsome  pretentions.  It  was  likewise  thought  if  by 
absence  the  queen  had  once  leisure  to  forget  the  charms, 
to  her,  of  his  person,  his  lofty  demeanor  would  soon  bring 
disgust  to  a  princess  who  commonly  exacted  such  implicit 
obedience.  Buoyed  up  with  his  popularity  with  the  people, 
Essex  was  now  entering  with  persistence  upon  those  steps 
which  cost  him,  not  only  the  disgust  and  abandonment  of 
his  truest  friends,  but  his  life.  For  a  history  of  his  con- 
spiracy see  ch.  11  of  Knight's  History  of  England,  vol.  iii. 

The  queen  at  this  time  was  sixty-eight  years  of  age,  and 
thoughts  of  a  successor  must  of  necessity  have  been  enter- 
ing the  public  mind.  James  the  Sixth  of  Scotland  was 
likewise  both  at  home  and  abroad  scheming  in  various 
ways,  and  even  with  the  Catholic  party,  for  recognition  as 
the  future  sovereign  of  Great  Britain,  and  the  wary  young 
Cecil,  whom  he  made  his  Secretary  of  State,  and  afterward 
Earl  of  Salisbury,  was  in  secret  correspondence  with  him 
for  some  time  previous  to  Elizabeth's  death  ;  and  it  has 
been  thought  by  some  that  Essex's  movements  were  de- 
signed to  secure  James's  recognition.  But  before  his  re- 
turn from  Ireland  he  had  made  preparations  in  the  line 


170  RELATIONAL   FACTS. 

of  the  plot  which  he  finally  attempted.  Having  himself 
descended  in  the  female  line  from  the  royal  family,  he 
doubtless  entertained  thoughts  that  were  a  start  once 
made,  his  popularity  with  the  people  might  fix  the  public 
eye  upon  himself  as  a  successor.  He  had  been  jealous  of,  and 
had  ever  sought  to  depress,  military  men.  For  some  time 
previous  to  the  overt  act  he  had,  and  in  a  profuse  manner, 
courted  all  classes  of  the  people.  Catholics  included ;  and 
whom  under  the  queen  he  had  been  laboring  to  suppress. 
This  of  itself  would  have  aroused  the  feelings  of  Bacon 
against  him.  Many  of  the  Catholics  engaged  in  the  noted 
Gunpowder  Plot  early  in  the  next  reign,  among  whom 
were  Catesby  and  Monteagle,  were  concerned  in  these 
treasonable  projects. 

By  the  supposed  detection  of  his  plot  it  was  forced  for- 
ward before  it  was  ripe,  and  so  fell  flat  at  its  birth.  He 
sought  to  seize  the  Tower  of  London,  the  person  of  the 
queen,  and  then  to  call  a  Parliament  to  shape  things  to 
his  purposes,  and  he  marshalled  his  co-conspirators  to  the 
number  of  three  hundred  in  the  streets  of  London,  trust- 
ing, it  is  said,  to  an  uprising  in  his  favor.  For  this  con- 
spiracy he  and  Southampton  were,  on  February  19th,  160], 
arraigned,  as  were  thereafter  some  five  others. 

All  were  found  guilty,  and  all,  Southampton  excepted, 
were  executed,  Essex  being  executed  in  the  Tower  Feb- 
ruary 25th,  1601,  while  Southampton  remained  in  prison 
until  early  in  the  next  reign,  when  he  was  released  by 
James,  who  came  to  the  throne  by  Elizabeth's  death, 
March  24th,  1603. 

The  will  of  Henry  the  Eighth  had  excluded,  or  at  least 
passed  over  the  Scotch  line.  The  claims  of  Arabella 
Stuart,  also  of  that  line,  were  favored  by  some  in  prefer- 
ence to  those  of  James,  and  concerning  whose  claims 
Raleigh  is  said  very  unjustly  to  have  lost  his  life.  The 
advancement  of  Cecil  by  James  upon  his  accession  seemed 
a  kind  of  surprise  to  all,  their  previous  correspondence 
having  been  secret.  Cecil  now  put  aside  or  abandoned 
largely  his  old  associates,  including  Raleigh,  Cobham,  Gray, 
and  others.  He  it  was,  who  was  present  during  Elizabeth's 
last  hours,  and  who  said  she  indicated  by  signs  her  inten- 
tion that  James  should  succeed  her,  "holding  her  hands 
joined  above  her  head  in  the  manner  of  a  crown  when  his 
name  was  mentioned." 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  171 

The  Cecils  were  wily  men,  and  eminent  for  looking  out 
for  themselves  in  every  enterprise,  and  the  circumstances 
of  James's  accession  do  not  warrant  us  in  believing  that 
there  was  in  this  instance  an  exception. 

Hume  in  his  History  of  England,  vol.  iii.,  p.  587,  says  : 
"  As  Raleigh,  Gray,  and  Cobham  were  commonly  believed, 
after  the  queen's  death,  to  have  opposed  proclaiming  the 
king  till  conditions  should  be  made  with  him,  they  were 
upon  that  account  extremely  obnoxious  to  the  court  and 
ministry  ;  and  people  were  apt,  at  first,  to  suspect  that  the 
plot  was  merely  a  contrivance  of  Secretary  Cecil  to  get  rid 
of  his  old  confederates,  now  become  his  most  inveterate 
enemies."     This  brings  us   to   a  few  words   concerning 

Cecil.  ,        ,      ,     .        ,, 

Robert  Cecil,  Secretary  of  State  not  only  during   the 
later  years  of  Elizabeth,  but  afterward  under  James  the 
First,  was  a  son  of  Lord  Burghley.     He  was  born  in  1550 
and  died  in  1612.      His  conduct  toward  certain  of  his 
cotemporaries,  including  Bacon,  'Essex,  and  later  toward 
Raleigh,  has  been  much  censured.     Toward  Bacon,  either 
by  reason  of  his  subtle  ability  to  look  through  human 
dealings,  or  otherwise,  he  seems  ever  to  have  had  some 
secret  fear  or  jealousy.     As  he  was  deformed  in  person,  it 
has  by  some  been  thought  that  this  feeling  may  have  arisen 
from  a  suspicion  that  Bacon  was  the  author  of   and  in- 
tended to  characterize  him  as  Richard  the  Third  in  that 
noted  play.     However  this  may  have  been,   some  covert 
opposition  existed  in  his  mind,  and  he  thus  ever  stood 
with  an  opposing  watchfulness  over  Bacon's  advancement. 
He  is  said  to  have  been  possessed  of  little  originality  of 
thought,  and  to  have  followed  but  in  the  footsteps  of  his 
father.      During  the  reign  of   Elizabeth   he   represented 
Westminster  in  Parliament,  held  a  post  in  the  French 
Embassy,  and  was  appointed  Chancellor  of  the  Duchy  of 
Lancaster.     He   succeeded   his   father   as   Master   of   the 
Court  of  Wards,  a  position  earlier  held  by  Sir  Nicholas 
Bacon   and   later  sought  by  Francis  ;  and  he  succeeded 
Walsingham  as  Chief  Secretary  of  State. 

Upon  James's  accession  he  was  reappointed  Secretary 
of  State  and  had  several  dignities  conferred  upon  him, 
including  that  of  Earl  of  Salisbury.  In  ]G08  he  became 
Lord  High  Treasurer  of  England,  the  position  held  by  his 
father  in  the  previous  reign,  and  thus  became  chief  ad- 


1?-^  RELATIONAL  FACTS. 

viser  of  the  crown  both  as  to  home  and  foreign  affairs, 
and  thus  a  kind  of  mediator  between  king  and  Parlia- 
ment. He  seems  able  to  have  effected  little,  however,  in 
harmonizing  the  conflicting  interests  of  this  reign,  the 
commingling  in,  and  struggle  to  shape  which,  cost  Bacon 
his  overthrow. 

The  restraining  influences  of  Elizabeth's  frugality,  as 
well  of  honors  as  of  money,  ceased  with  her  death,  as  did 
her  methods  and  foreign  policy  ;  and  especially  toward 
Spain.  With  Cecil's,  in  other  words,  with  Salisbury's 
death,  May  24th,  1612,  the  traditions  of  the  Tudors  may  be 
said  to  have  been  at  an  end,  and  new  methods  were  at  once 
inaugurated.  From  this  time  forth  the  government  of 
James  was  little  more  than  a  kind  of  manipulated  king- 
craft, through  not  a  public  minister,  but  through  unscrupu- 
lous favorites.  The  first  of  these  was  Robert  Carr,  after- 
ward Lord  Rochester  and  later  made  Earl  of  Somerset ;  and 
who,  in  1616,  together  with  his  wife,  the  countess,  were 
convicted  of  the  murder  in  the  Tower  of  Sir  Thomas 
Overbury,  one  cognizant  of  his  secrets  concerning  foreign 
and  other  affairs.  For  his  record  see  Knight's  History  of 
England,  vol.  iii.,  ch.  16.  The  second  of  these  favorites 
was  George  Villiers,  afterward  the  all-powerful  Duke  of 
Buckingham  to  the  end  of  James's  reign  ;  and  who  was 
assassinated  early,  in  the  next. 

George  Villiers,  a  son  of  Sir  George  Villiers,  of  Brookby, 
was  born,  August  20th,  1592,  and  died,  August  23d,  1628, 
by  the  hand  of  one  John  Felton,  who  declared  him  a  public 
enemy,  though  Felton  is  said  to  have  had  private  griev- 
ances. In  early  life  he  was  left  without  means,  and  his 
widowed  mother  educated  him  for  a  courtier's  life,  and  in 
1614,  at  the  age  of  twenty-two,  he  was  brought  to  the 
notice  of  the  king.  By  means  of  good  looks  and  vivacious 
animal  spirits  he  made  a  favorable  impression.  This  was 
brought  about  by  the  purchase  of  the  office  of  cup-bearer 
to  the  king,  from  the  then  favorite  Carr,  already  men- 
tioned. He  soon  became  a  gentleman  of  the  bedchamber, 
was  knighted,  and  received  a  pension  of  £1000  a  year,  and 
upon  the  accusation  of  Carr  or  Somerset  with  the  murder 
of  Overbury,  hereafter  considered,  he  at  once  succeeded 
to  his  place  as  chief  favorite  of  the  king.  Somerset  had 
connected  himself  intimately  with  the  party  that  sought  a 
close  alliance  with  Spain,  and  hence  all  who  felt  an  op- 


KELATIONAL   FACTS.  173 

posing  interest  looked  with  a  favorable  expectancy  upon 
tJie  new  favorite,  though  in  this  doomed  to  disappoint- 
ment, as  we  shall  see. 

As  yet,  however,  he  had  manifested  no  formed  political 
or  religions  tenets.  These  in  various  ways  Bacon  sought, 
though  nusuccessfull}^  to  influence.  Later  he  attempted 
this  in  his  mentioned  A.  D.  B.  Mask,  by  a  kind  of  subtle 
half  warning,  and  by  the  whipping  of  faults  toward  which 
he  was  then  stoutly  drifting. 

In  August,  1616,  he*  was  raised  to  the  peerage  as  Vis- 
count Villiers.  In  January,  1617,  he  became  Earl  of 
Buckingham.  In  January,  1618,  he  became  Marquis  of 
Buckingham,  and  estates  were  settled  upon  him  by  the 
new  methods  of  the  king,  whose  screen  he  became,  to  the 
value  of  £15,000  a  year,  so  that  it  was  said,  the  Earl  of 
Pembroke  excepted,  he  was  now  the  richest  nobleman  in 
England. 

Knight  says  of  him  :  "  When  Somerset  sold  the  office 
of  cup-bearer  to  George  Villiers,  one  of  the  sons  of  a 
Leicestershire  knight,  he  appears  to  have  forgotten  that 
another  might  supplant  him  in  the  favour  of  the  king 
who  dwelt  on  '  good  looks  and  handsome  accoutre- 
ments.' The  cup-bearer  was  a  dangerous  rival.  '  His 
flrst  introduction  into  favour,'  says  Clarendon,  '  was  purely 
from  the  handsomeness  of  his  person.'  The  history  of 
the  country,  to  the  end  of  this  reign,  is  in  great  part  the 
personal  history  of  George  Villiers, — the  adventurer,  who 
had  in  his  capacity  of  the  king's  cup-bearer  been  '  ad- 
mitted to  that  conversation  and  discourse  with  which  that 
prince  always  abounded  at  his  meals.'  In  a  few  weeks, 
continues  Clarendon,  he  mounted  higher  ;  '  and  being 
knighted,  without  any  other  qualifications,  he  was  at  the 
same  time  made  gentleman  of  the  bedchamber  and  knight 
of  the  order  of  the  garter  ;  and  in  a  short  time  (very  short 
for  such  a  prodigious  ascent)  he  was  made  a  baron,  a  vis- 
count, an  earl,  a  marquis,  and  became  lord  high  admiral 
of  England,  lord  warden  of  the  cinque-ports,  master  of 
the  horse,  and  entirely  disposed  of  all  the  graces  of  the 
king,  in  conferring  all  the  honours  and  all  the  offices  of 
three  kingdoms  without  a  rival."  (Knight's  History  of 
England,  vol.  iii.,  p.  298.) 

And  we  think  the  facts  yet  to  be  presented  will  show 
that  under  the  methods  of  James  he  became  a  mere  screen, 


174  RELATlOlSrAL   FACTS. 

and  one  which  ultimately  James  himself  became  unable  to 
adjust. 

None  were  now  allowed  to  receive  either  position  or 
promotion,  who  did  not  in  some  way  pay  tribute  to  him, 
and  thus,  independent  of  Parliament,  as  we  shall  see,  the 
urgent  wants  of  the  king  during  the  last  half  of  this 
reign  were  largely  supplied.  Even  under  Somerset  the 
offices  were  shamelessly  sold  without  stint.  (See  Knight, 
vol.  iii.,  p.  298  ) 

In  1G18  Buckingham  was  married  to  Lady  Catherine 
Manners,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Eutland,  and  she,  though 
conforming  outwardly  to  the  forms  of  the  English  Church, 
was  yet  known  to  be  devoted  to  the  ancient  or  Catholic 
faith.  During  this  and  the  next  year,  1619,  the  year  in 
which  our  mentioned  A.  D.  B.  Mask  was  put  forth,  Buck- 
ingham began  to  assume  an  independent  political  position, 
upon  which  this  work  was,  we  judge,  designed  to  exercise 
a  check. 

James's  son-in-law,  Frederick  the  Fifth  of  Germany, 
had  this  year,  and  to  the  great  discomfiture  of  Spain,  ac- 
cepted the  crown  of  Bohemia,  now  in  revolt,  and  which 
was  the  beginning  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War  which  fol- 
lowed. The  battle  between  Eomanism  and  Protestantism 
seemed  now  likely  to  be  fought  anew.  Earlier  a  touch 
of  warning  had  been  given  in  that  globe  of  relations,  the 
play  of  Hamlet.  The  Emperor  of  Germany  was  King  of 
Bohemia,  and  his  cousin,  Ferdinand  of  Styria,  was  heir- 
elect.  In  the  summer  of  1618  the  Puotestant  aristocracy 
of  Bohemia,  upon  a  dispute  about  the  suppression  of  Prot- 
estant churches  on  ecclesiastical  lauds,  and  which  was  held 
to  be  a  breach  of  charter,  rose  against  the  government, 
broke  in  upon  the  Board  of  Regency  as  they  sat  in  coun- 
cil, threw  three  of  its  members  out  at  the  window,  and 
established  a  Directorate  of  thirty  members,  and  aj)- 
pealed  to  all  of  the  Protestant  powers  of  Europe  for  sup- 
port. Spain  in  her  policy  sided  with  the  emperor,  and 
so  took  part  in  crushing  the  Bohemian  rebellion.  Mr. 
Spedding  says  :  "  The  Bohemian  quarrel  had  hitherto 
concerned  England  only  as  it  affected  the  progress  of  the 
reformed  religion  and  the  peace  and  prosperity  of  Europe. 
She  had  as  yet  no  separate  or  selfish  interest  in  the  issue. 
But  she  was  now  about  to  be  drawn  into  the  game,  by  no 
fault  of  her  own,  under  very  inconvenient  conditions.     On 


RELATIONAL   FACTS.  175 

the  lOth  of  March  1G19,  by  the  death  of  the  Emperor 
Matthias,  Ferdinand  of  Styria  had  succeeded,  in  virtue  of 
a  previous  election,  to  the  crown  of  Bohemia.  On  the 
16th  of  August — two  days  before  he  was  unanimously 
elected  Emperor  of  Germany — the  states  of  Bohemia  de- 
posed him,  and  elected  in  his  stead  Frederick,  the  count 
Palatine  of  the  Rhine,  head  of  the  Protestant  union  and 
James's  son-in-law  ;  expecting  of  course  that  he  would 
bring  the  strength  of  England  with  him.  The  English 
people  were  delighted  at  this  triumph  of  Protestantism  in 
the  person  of  the  husband  of  their  favorite  princess,  and 
would  have  rushed  to  his  support  at  once."  (Bacon's  Let- 
ters, vol.  vii.,  p.  41.) 

In  this,  however,  James  was  not  with  the  people. 
Though  outwardly  professing  to  assist  his  son-in-law,  his 
heart  lay  quite  another  way,  and  he  was  scheming  vigor- 
ously to  secure  a  marriage  alliance  between  his  son  Prince 
Charles  and  the  Infanta  of  Spain.  The  old  dread  of  the 
Papacy  was  rekindled.  Buckingham  at  first  professed  to 
be  with  the  popular  movement,  but  before  the  summer  of 
1020  was  at  an  end  he  had  entirely  changed  front  and  was 
in  the  closest  agreement  with  the  Spanish  Minister  Gon- 
domar.  Soon  after  and  in  1621  occurred  the  notable  out- 
break in  Parliament  against  monopolies,  whereby  he  and 
his  dependants,  his  brother  included,  were  robbing  and 
oppressing  the  people.  At  first  he  pleaded  for  a  dissolu- 
tion of  the  Parliament,  but  by  crafty  counsel  was  soon 
induced  to  believe  that  the  wiser  course  was  to  put  him- 
self at  the  head  of  the  reform  movement,  wherein  Bacon, 
the  then  chief  pillar  of  Protestantism  in  Europe,  was  not 
only  submerged,  but  at  Buckingham's  dictation  was  re- 
quired to  surrender  his  cherished  York  House,  the  elegant 
home  of  his  childhood,  and  which  he  did,  hoping  thereby 
again  to  secure  the  royal  favor  ;  and  Williams,  the  giver  of 
the  crafty  advice,  stepped  into  Bacon's  shoes  as  Clwincellor 
of^England.  During  the  winter  of  this  and  the  succeed- 
ing year  Buckingham  was  entirely  in  Gondomar's  hands, 
and  with  great  difficulty  it  was  that  Laud,  in  May,  1622, 
succeeded  in  arguing  him  out  of  a  resolution  to  declaring 
himself  a  Roman  Catholic'     It  was  understood  that  the 

'  See  Britaniiica  article  on  Buckingliam,  p.  418. 


176  RELATIONAL   FACTS. 

next  year,  1623,  the  king's  son  Prince  Charles  was  to  vis- 
it Madrid,  where,  before  giving  him  in  marriage  tlie  hand 
of  the  Infanta  Maria,  the  Spanish  Court  expected  his  con- 
version to  the  Catholic  faith.  Earlier,  and  on  January 
13th,  1618-19,  the  following  summary  was  by  Gondomar 
submitted  as  a  report  to  the  Spanish  Government  touching 
the  Bohemian  issues.  He  said  :  "  In  spite  of  the  suc- 
cess which  had  attended  his  efforts  to  keep  James  out  of 
the  hands  of  the  war  party,  it  was  impossible  to  be  free 
from  anxiety  for  the  future.  It  was  true  that  the  king's 
exchequer  was  empty  ;  but  the  nation  was  rich,  and  a  dec- 
laration of  war  with  Spain  would  immediately  be  followed 
by  a  large  grant  of  money.  In  a  few  days  a  powerful  fleet 
could  be  manned  and  equipped.  On  the  other  hand,  at 
no  time  had  the  Spanish  navy  been  so  entirely  unprepared 
for  war.  The  sea  would  swarm  with  English  privateers, 
and  whoever  was  master  at  sea  would  soon  be  master  on 
land.  The  Dutch  rebels,  the  French  Huguenots,  and  the 
German  ^heretics,  would  place  James  at  the  head  of  a 
powerful  confederacy,  and  it  was  impossible  to  say  what 
injury  he  might  not  inflict  upon  the  Catholic  Church  and 
the  Spanish  Monarchy. 

"  At  any  price,  then,  the  friendship  of  James  must  be 
secured.  With  that,  everything  would  be  possible,  even 
the  reduction  of  England  to  the  Catholic  Church.  The 
marriage  treaty  must  again  be  set  on  foot."  (Bacon's  Let- 
ters, vol.  vii.,  p.  18.) 

Upon  visiting  Madrid  in  February,  1623,  it  soon  became 
aj^parent  that  this  long-sought  andlong-talked-of  marriage 
could  not  be  effected,  nor  could  the  Palatinate,  as  James 
professed  to  hope,  be  in  this  way  restored.  The  end  which 
Spain  had  sought  in  it,  however,  the  diversion  of  James, 
had  been  accomplished.  And  so  in  September  Charles 
and  Buckingham  returned  to  England  with  the  determina- 
tion to  break  at  once  with  Spain,  much  to  the  rejoicing  of 
the  people,  though  to  the  great  discomfiture  of  James,  as 
Buckingham,  and  Charles  the  next  heir  to  the  throne, 
now  took  up  a  political  position  of  their  own  ;  and  James 
was  thus,  by  the  popularity  which  this  event  for  tho 
moment  gave  to  Buckingham,  half  persuaded,  though 
more  largely  driven  to  declare  all  negotiations  with  Spain 
at  an  end  ;  and  during  the  next  year,  1624,  Buckingham 


EELATION"AL  FACTS.  177 

arranged  a  marriage  alliance  for  the  prince  -with  Henrietta 
Maria  of  France,  The  screen  was  now,  and  for  some  time 
had  been,  beyond  the  king's  control  ;  and  he  evidently 
stood  in  mortal  fear  of  him  during  the  remainder  of  his 
reign,  which  ended  by  his  death,  March  37,  1625. 


LIFE  OF  BAOOK 


Having  now  mentioned  relationally  some  of  the  leading 
events  and  influences  under  which  Sir  Francis  Bacon  was 
born  and  lived,  we  come  next  to  more  intimate  details  in 
his  personal  history.  These  we  introduce  after  our  own 
method  by  first  setting  forth  the  views  which  he,  Bacon, 
himself  entertained  as  to  his  own  personal  gifts  and  aims 
in  life,  as  in  this  he  should  have  the  right,  we  think,  to 
be  first  heard.  These  should  be  read  in  counection  with 
his  noted  letter  to  Lord  Burghley,  set  forth  in  our  intro- 
duction to  this  work.  Thus  pursued,  light  will  the  more 
readily  fall  upon  his  aims  and  motives  aud  according  to 
his  own  understanding  of  them.  In  his  article  entitled 
"  Of  the  Interpretation  of  Nature,"  he  of  himself  says  : 

"  Accounting  myself  born  for  the  uses  of  mankind,  and 
judging  the  case  of  the  commonweal  to  be  one  of  those 
things  which  are  of  public  right,  and  like  water  or  air  lie 
open  to  all  ;  I  sought  what  might  be  the  most  advan- 
tage to  men,  and  deliberated  what  I  was  most  fitted  for 
by  nature.  I  discovered  that  nothing  is  of  such  estima- 
tion towards  the  human  race,  as  the  invention  and  earnest 
of  new  things  and  arts,  by  which  man's  life  is  adorned. 
For  I  pei'ceived  that,  even  in  old  times  among  rude  men, 
the  inventors  and  teachers  of  things  rude  were  consecrated 
and  chosen  into  the  number  of  the  gods  ;  and  I  noted 
that  the  deeds  of  heroes  who  built  cities,  or  were  legis- 
lators, or  exercised  just  authority,  or  subdued  unjust 
dominations,  were  circumscribed  by  the  narrowness  of 
places  and  times.  But  the  invention  of  things,  though  it 
be  a  matter  of  less  pomp,'  I  esteemed  more  adapted  for 
nniversality  and  eternity.  Yet  above  all,  if  any  bring 
forth  no  particular  invention,  though  of  much  utility,  but 
kindleth'-'a  light  in  nature,  which  from  the  very  beginning 

'  Note  the  use  of  this  word  "  pomp"  in  every  phase  of  this  litera- 
ture. 

"  The  word  "  kindle  "  is  a  conspicuous  word  with  Bacon.  Note 
this  word  us  used  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  pp.  179  and  321. 


LIFE   OF    BACO]tir.  179 

illuminates  the  regions  of  things,  which  lie  contiguous  to 
things  already  invented,  afterwards  being  elevated  lays 
open  and  brings  to  view  all  the  abstrusest  things  ;  he 
seems  to  me  a  propagator  of  the  empire  of  man  over  the 
universe,  a  defender  of  liberty,  a  conqueror  of  necessities. 
But  I  found  myself  constructed  more  for  the  contemplations 
of  truth  than  for  aught  else,  as  having  a  mind  sufficiently 
mobile  for  recognizing  (what  is  most  of  all)  the  similitude 
of  things,'  and  sufficiently  fixed  and  intent  for  observing 
the  subtleties  of  differences,  and  possessing  love  of  investi- 
gation, patience  in  doubting,  pleasure  in  meditating,  delay 
in  asserting,  facility  in  returning  to  wisdom,  and  neither 
affecting  novelty,  nor  admiring  antiquity,  and  hating  all 
imposture.  Wherefore  I  judged  my  nature  to  have  a  kind 
of  familiarity  and  relationship  with  truth.  Yet  seeing 
by  rank  and  education  I  was  trained  to  civil  affairs,  and, 
like  a  youth,  sometimes  staggered  in  my  opinions,  and 
conceived  I  owed  my  country  something  peculiar,  and  not 
equally  pertaining  to  all  other  parts,  and  hoped,  if  I  ob- 
tained any  honorable  degree  in  the  commonwealth  to  per- 
form witii  greater  help  of  ingenuity  and  industry  what 
I  had  intended  ;^  I  both  learned  civil  arts,  and  with  all 
ingenuousness  and  due  modesty,  commended  myself  to  my 
friends  who  had  some  power.  And  in  addition  to  this, 
because  those  things  of  whatever  kind  penetrate  not  beyond 
the  condition  and  culture  of  this  life,  the  hope  occurred 
that  I,  born  in  no  very  prosperous  state  of  religion,  might,  if 
called  to  civil  offices,  contribute  somewhat  to  the  safety 
of  souls.  But  when  my  zeal  was  imputed  to  ambition, 
and  my  age  was  matured,  and  my  disordered  health  also 
admonished  me  of  my  unhappy  slowness,'  and  I  next  con- 
sidered that  I  nowise  fulfilled  my  duty,  while  I  was  neglect- 
ing that  by  which  I  could  through  myself  benefit  men, 
and  applying  myself  to  the  things  which  depended  upon 
the  will  of  another,  I  altogether  weaned  myself  from  those 
thoughts,  and  wholly  betook  myself  to  this  work,  accord- 
ing to  my  former  principle.     Nor  is  my  resolution  dimin- 

'  To  this  feature  of  his  mind  we  are  indebted  for  the  allegories 
under  review. 

-  We  think  Bacon  sought  position  chiefly  for  the  vantage  ground 
"which  it  would  give  him  in  the  anchorage  of  his  worli. 

^  This  unhappy  slowness  is  alluded  to  in  one  of  the  sonnets,  which 
we  shall  soon  have  occasion  to  present. 


180  LIFE   OF    BACON. 

ished  by  foreseeing  in  the  state  of  these  times,  a  sort  of 
declination  of  knowledge  and  ruin  of  the  learning  which  is 
now  in  use  ;  for  though  I  dread  not  the  incursions  of 
barbarians  (unless,  perhaps,  the  empire  of  Spain  should 
strengthen  itself,  and  oppress  and  debilitate  others,  by 
arms,  itself  by  the  burden)  yet  from  civil  wars  (which  on 
account  of  certain  manners  not  long  ago  introduced,  seem 
to  me  about  to  visit  many  countries^)  and  the  malignity 
of  sects,  and  from  those  compendiary  artifices  and  cautions 
which  have  crept  into  the  place  of  learning,  no  less  a 
tempest  seems  to  impend  over  letters  and  science.  Nor 
can  the  shop  of  the  typographer  suffice  for  those  evils. 
And  that  unwarlike  learning,  which  is  nourished  by  ease, 
and  flourishes  by  praise  and  reward,  which  sustains  not 
the  vehemency  of  opinion,  and  is  the  sport  of  artifices 
and  impostures,  is  overcome  by  the  impediments  which 
I  have  mentioned.  Far  different  is  the  nature  of  the 
knowledge  whose  dignity  is  fortified  by  utility  and  opera- 
tion. And  from  the  injuries  of  time  I  am  almost  secure  ; 
but  from  the  injuries  of  men  I  am  not  concerned.  For 
should  any  say  that  I  savor  things  too  high,  I  reply  simply, 
in  civil  affairs  there  is  place  for  modesty,  in  contempla- 
tions for  truth.  But  if  any  one  require  works  immedi- 
ately, I  say,  without  any  imposture,  that  I,  a  man  not 
old,  frail  in  health,  involved  in  civil  studies,  coming  to 
the  obscurest  of  all  subjects  without  guide  or  liglit,  have 
done  enough,  if  I  have  constructed  the  machine  itself  and 
the  fabric,  though  I  may  not  have  employed  or  moved  it. 
And  with  the  same  candor,  I  profess  that  the  legitimate 
interpretation  of  nature,  in  the  first  assent  before  arriving 
at  a  certain  degree  of  generals,  should  be  kept  pure  and 
separate  from  all  application  to  works.  Moreover,  1  know 
that  all  those  who  have  in  some  measure  committed  them- 
selves to  the  waters  of  experience,  seeing  they  were  infirm 
of  purpose,  or  desirous  of  ostentation,  have  at  the  entrance 
unreasonably  sought  pledges  of  works,  and  have  thence 
been  confounded  and  shipwrecked.  But  if  any  require 
at  least  particular  promises,  let  him  know'  that  by  that 

*  These  innovated  manners,  and  which  he  much  feared,  we  shall 
find  commented  upon  by  him  in  portions  of  the  Defoe  literature. 

^  This  form  of  expression  "let  him  know"  was  quite  common 
with  Bacon,  and  so  it  occurs  throughout  these  writings.  In  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  69,  we  have  : 


LIFE   OF  BACON.  181 

knowledge,  which  is  now  in  use,  men  are  not  skilled 
enough  even  for  wishing.  But,  what  is  of  less  moment, 
should  any  of  the  politicians,  whose  custom  it  is  from 
personal  calculations  to  estimate  everything,  or  from  ex- 
amples of  like  endeavours  to  form  conjecture,  presume  to 
interpose  his  judgment  in  a  matter  of  this  sort  I  would 
have  told  that  ancient  saying,  claudus  in  via,  cursoreni 
extra  viam  ajiteveriit,  and  not  to  think  about  examples, 
since  the  matter  is  without  example.  But  the  method  of 
publishing  these  things  is,  to  have  such  of  them  as  tend 
to  seize  the  correspondences  of  dispositions,  and  purge  the 
areas  of  minds,  given  out  to  the  vulgar  and  talked  of  ;  to 
have  the  rest  handed  down  with  selection  and  judgment. 
Nor  am  I  ignorant  that  it  is  a  common  and  trite  artifice 
of  impostors  to  keep  apart  from  the  vulgar  certain  things 
which  are  nothing  better  than  the  impertinences  they 
set  forth  to  the  vulgar.  But  without  any  imposture,  from 
sound  providence,  I  foresee  that  this  formula  of  inter- 
pretation, and  the  inventions  made  by  it,  will  be  more 
vigorous  and  secure  when  contained  within  legitimate  and 
chosen  devices.  Yet  I  undertake  these  things  at  the  risk 
of  others.  For  none  of  those  things  which  depend  upon 
externals  concern  me  :  nor  do  I  hunt  after  fame,  or,  like 
the  heretics,  take  delight  in  establishing  a  sect ;  and  to 
receive  any  private  emolument  from  so  great  an  under- 
taking, I  hold  to  be  both  ridiculous  and  base.  Sufficient 
for  me  is  the  consciousness  of  desert,  and  the  very  accom- 
plishment itself  of  things,  which  even  fortune  cannot 
withstand."    (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  549.) 

Bacon's  ends  may  thus  be  seen  to  have  been  centred 
deeply  in  the  Reformed  faith,  in  the  commonwealth,  and 
in  philosophy.  Concerning  the  good  ends  to  be  set  before 
one's  self  he  says  : 

"  For  if  these  two  things  be  supposed,  that  a  man  set 

"  Come,  let  my  carper  to  his  life  now  look. 
And  find  there  darker  lines  than  in  my  book 
He  tindeth  any  ;  yea,  and  let  him  know. 
That  in  his  best  things  there  are  worse  lines  too." 

In  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  802,  we  have  :  "  The  guards  let  him  know, 
in  a  very  angry  manner,  that  the  house  he  was  in,  was  not  a  cara- 
vansary, but  the  king's  palace."  Many  of  these  distinctive  forms 
of  expression  were  doubtless  adopted  by  Bacon  for  brevity's  5.ake. 
By  this  form  all  detail  as  to  the  mode  by  which  one  is  made  to  know 
may  be  avoided. 


182  LIFE   OF    BACON. 

before  him  honest  and  good  ends,  and  again  that  his 
mind  be  resolute  and  constant  to  pursue  and  obtain  them, 
it  will  follow  that  his  mind  shall  address  and  mould  itself 
to  all  virtues  at  once.  And  this  indeed  is  like  the  work 
of  Nature  ;  whereas  the  other  courses  I  have  mentioned 
are  like  the  work  of  the  hand.  For  as  when  a  carver 
makes  an  image,  he  shapes  only  that  part  whereon  he 
works,  and  not  the  rest  (as  if  he  be  upon  the  face,  that  part 
which  shall  be  the  body  is  but  a  rude  and  nnshaped  stone 
still,  till  such  time  as  he  comes  to  it)  ;  but  contrariwise 
when  Nature  makes  a  flower  or  living  creature,  she  forms 
and  produces  rudiments  of  all  the  parts  at  one  time  ;  so 
in  obtaining  virtue  by  habit,  while  we  practise  temperance, 
we  do  not  advance  much  in  fortitude,  nor  the  like  ;  but 
Avhen  we  dedicate  and  apply  ourselves  entirely  to  good  and 
honest  ends,  what  virtue  soever  the  pursuit  and  passage 
towards  those  ends  suggests  and  enjoins,  we  shall  find 
ourselves  invested  with  a  j^recedent  disposition  and  pro- 
pensity to  conform  thereto."    (Do  Augmentis,  ch,  3,  Book 

Concerning  his  work  he  says  :  "  I  have  held  up  a  light 
in  the  obscurity  of  philosophy  which  will  be  seen  centuries 
after  I  am  dead.  It  will  be  seen  amidst  the  erection  of 
temples,  tombs,  palaces,  theaters,  bridges,  making  noble 
roads,  cutting  canals,  granting  multitude  of  charters  and 
liberties  for  comfort  of  decayed  companies  and  corpora- 
tions :  the  foundation  of  colleges  and  lectures  for  learning 
and  the  education  of  youth  ;  foundations  and  institutions 
of  orders  and  fraternities  for  nobility,  enterprise,  and 
obedience  ;  but  above  all,  the  establishing  of  good  laws 
for  the  regulation  of  the  kingdom  and  as  an  example  to 
the  world."     (Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  114.) 

The  things  in  which  this  light  is  to  be  seen  are  more 
particularly  set  forth  in  the  New  Atlantis  and  in  the  intro- 
duction to  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  pp.  87-101. 

The  more  intimate  personal  events  in  Lord  Bacon's 
history,  which,  in  a  work  like  the  present,  must  neces- 
sarily be  brief,  open  with  his  birth  at  York  House,  his 
father's  London  residence,  January  22d,  1561,  and  are 
said  to  have  closed  with  his  death  on  the  morning  of 
Easter  Sunday,  April  9th,  1626,  in  the  sixty-sixth  year  of 
his  age.  Ilis  death  is  said  to  have  occurred  in  this  some- 
what singular  manner.     On  the  morning  of  April  2d  he, 


LIFE   OF   BACOH.  ^^^ 


witl,  the  king's  rl.ysicianh«in^drivxn  into  the  co^^^^ 

111  snow  as  m  salt,      ^'^^leupon    ea  himself  as- 

aod,  procuring  a  hen  from  %1^^  f  "^T  ^ft\i  snow,  and 
sisted  in  stuffing  the  ^oc  Y  of  the  fowl  with^^^^^  ,.^^  ^^^ 
thereupon  he  received  a  chill  and  giew  s^^^^^"Y   ,     y    . 

to  have  been  ,P".'"t»'^.\°t,yi'tireTeceved' version  con - 
been  recently  slept  in    I  '"«•  ^'^.J' 'V "",       jjjg  jetter  to  the 

*^^^^lT^et'' GOO?,'  Zri2:^S;iX^Z.  the 
^^snfiu"  ^X"Twa'sSdeto':'t„  try  an  experiment 

rrrhem  all"tluee"™rwl  'i  T/an^'to  your  lordship's 
hont"  was  niTahle  to  go  back,  »d  therefore  was^^ 

take  np  my  lodging  hf.wl'^'^X",     assure  mv'elf  voni 
careful  and  diliffent  about  me,  which  If?^"'?,  "{,,-,  J  .,,„ 

?:rdsliip  will  not  only  P-^""  towards  lum-bt.^^t^^^^^ 
rrv^>  "t^™:;  I'nd  Tklss  yt^i  ble  hand  for  the  wel- 

-rxkiii^^LTi^^'tnrrTe^rr^^^^^^ 

with  any  other  hand  than  mine  own  ;  but  by  my  tioth,  my 
.This  word  stone  will  be.found  used  ja  Befoe  in  Addi^^^^^^ 

Ir-^oTS^^f  ^^-nf  {j^^Si,  tUat  .3  Uad  not 
both  these  distempers  on  Ivim  at  the  same  tunc.  ^^^^  . 

'^  In  Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre,  Act  iv.,  sc.  i,  p.  o     . 
"  Now,  as  I  can  remember,  by  my  troth, 
I  never  did  her  hurt  in  all  my  Ute. 
In  Twelfth  Night,  Act  i.,  sc.  3,  p.  354,  we  have  : 


184  LIFE   OF   BAC02?". 

fingers  are  so  disjointed  with  this  fit  of  sickneas,  that  I 
cannot  steadily  hold  a  pen."     (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  91.) 

It  was  to  this  earl  that  The  Anatomy  of  Abases  was 
dedicated  in  1583.  As  to  Bacon's  funeral,  though  passing 
his  last  hours  at  so  distinguished  a  residence,  no  account 
or  trace  has  ever  been  found.  As  I  write  this,  and  by 
reason  of  certain  data,  the  idea  sweeps  afresh  into  my 
thoughts,  Can  it  be  possible  that  Lord  Bacon  through  the 
king,  through  flight,  or  otherwise  could  have  sought  and 
maintained  so  strict  a  seclusion  from  the  world  as  to  have 
in  this  deceived  it?  and  for  the  purpose,  among  others,  of 
seeing,  as  he  says  in  one  of  the  already  quoted  sonnets, 
what  the  world  would  say  of  his  philosophy.  Is  it  not  at 
least  a  singular  circumstance,  as  to  England's  greatest  son 
and  philosopher,  that  there  should  remain  no  word,  trace, 
or  remembrance  as  to  this  last  sad  rite  ?  and  particularly 
so  when  we  reflect  upon  the  long  delay  in  taking  letters 
upon  his  effects,  and  which,  though  leaving  a  will,  was 
finally  performed  only  upon  the  application  of  creditors. 
As  to  his  manuscripts,  Mr.  Spedding,  in  his  preface  to 
vol.  iii.  of  Bacon's  Philosophical  Works,  says  :  "  What 
care,  or  whether  any,  was  presently  taken  of  these  papers, 
I  cannot  learn.  But  it  is  probable  that  for  fourteen 
months  after  Bacon's  death,  they  remained  locked  up  ; — for 
so  long  it  was  before  any  one  had  authority  to  act  ;  the 
executors  named  in  the  will  refusing  or  delaying  to  assume 
their  office,  and  letters  of  administration  being  granted  on 
the  18th  of  July,  1627,  to  Sir  Robert  Rich  and  Thomas 
Meautys,  two  of  the  creditors  ; — and  that  then,  or  not  long 
after  they  were  placed  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Be  svile.  This  Mr, 
Bosvile,  better  known  as  Sir  William  Boswell,  was  sent  soon 
after  Bacon's  death,  to  the  Hague  ;  where  he  resided  for 
several  years  as  agent  with  the  States  of  the  United  Prov- 
inces. He  was  knighted  on  the  18th  of  May,  1633,  and 
died  1  believe  in  1647.  Whether  all  Bacon's  remaining 
manuscripts  were  sent  to  him,  or  only  a  portion  of  them  is 
not  known." 

Shortly  before  Bacon's  reputed  death  the  "pinches,"  to 
use  a  Baconian  word,  were  being  brought  upon  Bucking- 

"  Mar.  By  my  troth,  8ir  Toby,  you  must  come  in  earlier  o' 
nights  :  your  cousin,  my  lady,  takes  great  exceptions  to  your  ill 
hours." 


LIFE   OF   BACON".  185 

ham.  His  impeachment  in  Parliament,  and  doubtless 
somewhat  through  Bacon's  influence,  had  been  effected 
some  two  months  earlier  and  on  February  6th,  1626.  Not 
long  prior  to  this  event  Bacon's  relief  from  the  Parliamen- 
tary sentence  had  been  again  thwarted.  His  creditors  had 
been  clamorous  and  he  had  yielded  to  them,  and  had  thus 
become  greatly  straitened  for  means.  He  had  likewise 
long  been  delayed,  and  evidently  through  Buckingham, 
in  the  recovery  of  a  claim  made  over  to  him,  though  due 
the  crown  from  his  half  brother,  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  and 
which  he  is  thought  to  have  received  at  about  this  time. 

AVhile  Lord  Bacon  took  all  knowledge  for  his  provi- 
dence, the  Church  of  England  was  among  his  chief  cares, 
as  we  shall  see.  As  a  theologian  Macaulay  says  :  "  What 
he  was  as  a  natural  philosopher  and  a  moral  philosopher, 
that  he  was  also  as  a  tlieologian.  He  was,  we  are  con- 
vinced, a  sincere  believer  in  the  divine  authority  of  the 
Christian  revelation.  Nothing  can  be  found,  in  his  writ- 
ings, or  in  any  other  writings,  more  eloquent  and  pathetic 
than  some  passages  which  were  apparently  written  under 
the  influence  of  strong  devotional  feeling.  He  loved  to 
dwell  on  the  power  of  the  Christian  religion  to  effect  much 
that  the  ancient  philosophers  could  only  promise.  He 
loved  to  consider  that  religion  as  a  bond  of  charity,  the 
curb  of  evil  passions,  the  consolation  of  the  wretched,  the 
support  of  the  timid,  the  hope  of  the  dying.  But  con- 
troversies on  speculative  points  of  theology  seemed  to  have 
engaged  scarcely  any  portion  of  his  attention.  In  what 
he  wrote  on  church  government  he  showed,  as  far  as  he 
dared,  a  tolerant  and  charitable  spirit.^  He  troubled  him- 
self not  at  all  about  Horaoousians  and  Homoiousians, 
Monothelitcs,  and  Nestorians.  He  lived  in  an  age  in 
which  disputes  on  the  most  subtle  points  of  divinity  ex- 
cited an  intense  interest  throughout  Europe,  and  nowhere 
more  than  in  England.  He  was  placed  in  the  very  thick 
of  the  conflict.  He  was  in  power  at  the  time  of  the  S3'nod 
of  Dort,  and  must  for  months  have  been  daily  deafened 
with  talk  about  election,  reprobation,  and  final  persever- 
ance.    Yet  we  do  not  remember  a  line  in  his  works  from 

'  His  more  extended  views  upon  this  subject  will  be  found  in  the 
Defoe  literature. 


186  LIFE   OF   BACON. 

which  it  can  be  inferred  that  he  was  either  a  Calvinist  or 
an  Arminian.  While  the  world  was  resounding  with  the 
noise  of  a  disputatious  philosophy  and  a  disputatious  the- 
ology, the  Baconian  school,  like  Alworthy  seated  between 
Square  and  Thwackum,  preserved  a  calm  neutrality  half 
scornful,  half  benevolent,  and,  content  with  adding  to  the 
sum  of  practical  good,  left  the  war  of  words  to  those  who 
liked  it." 

Note  the  non-controversial  and  non-sectarian  character 
of  The  Pilgrim's  Progress. 

As  to  these  puzzles  in  divinity  see  Anatomy  of  Melan- 
choly, vol.  i. ,  pp.  149-51,  and  vol.  ii.,  pp.  567-73.  See 
also  its  introduction,  pp.  20-24. 

Portraits  of  Bacon  are  extant,  and  one  even  at  the  early 
age  of  eighteen,  when  an  amiable,  hopeful,  sensitive,  bash- 
ful boy.  In  person  he  is  said  to  have  been  well  formed, 
of  a  middle  stature,  and  possessed  of  features  both  expres- 
sive and  handsome,  his  whole  countenance,  until  some- 
what astringed  by  worldly  anxiety,  being  singularly  placid. 
In  temperament  he  is  said  to  have  been  so  sensitive  as  to 
be  affected  by  the  least  atmospheric  changes,  and  hence, 
as  might  readily  be  expected,  his  health  was  somewhat 
delicate. 

His  mental  gifts  and  methods  were  indeed  most  subtle, 
singular,  and  rare.  Subtle  differences  in  resemblances 
and  subtle  resemblances  in  differences  seemed  the  easy 
fruitage  of  his  researches,  and  concerning  which  Macaulay, 
in  his  noted  Essay  on  Bacon,  says  :  "  In  wit,  if  by  wit  be 
meant  the  power  of  perceiving  analogies  between  things 
which  appear  to  have  nothing  in  common,  he  never  had 
an  equal,  not  even  Cowley,  not  even  the  author  of  Hudi- 
bras.  Indeed  he  possessed  this  faculty,  or  rather  this 
faculty  possessed  him,  to  a  morbid  degree.  When  he 
abandoned  himself  to  it  without  reserve,  as  he  did  in  the 
Sajnentia  Veterum,  and  at  the  end  of  the  second  book  of 
the  De  Aiigmentis,  the  feats  which  he  performed  were  not 
merely  admirable,  but  portentous  and  almost  shocking. 
On  these  occasions  we  marvel  at  him  as  clowns  on  a  fair- 
day  marvel  at  a  juggler,  and  can  hardly  help  thinking 
that  the  devil  must  be  in  him." 

Let  these  thoughts  be  particularly  noted  in  connection 
with  inwrappings  in  the  plays,  and  let  us  take  them  with 
us  as  we  go.     Subtlety,  however,  is  not  inconsistent  with 


LIFE    OF    BACON. 


187 


honesty,  let  it  be  remembererl,  though  sometimes,  when 
feared,  we  are  inclined  to  think  so.'  ,     . 

An  intense  thirst  for  knowledge,  a  quick  msignt  into 
all  human  motives,  unceasing  cogitations,  cumbined  with 
the  most  active  attention,  even  to  what  would  ordinarily 
be  thought  trifles,  as  evidenced  in  his  Crusoe,  make  up  a 
brief  summary  of  Lord  Bacon's  mental  gifts,  concerning 
which  Macaulay  again  says  :  . 

"  One  of   the  most  remarkable   circumstances   m   the 
history  of  Bacon's  mind  is  the  order  in  which  its  powers 
expanded  themselves.     With  him  the  fruit  came  6rst  and 
remained  till  the  last  ;  the  blossoms  did  not  appear  till 
late      In  general,  the  development  of  the  fancy  is  to  the 
development  of  the  judgment  what  the  growth  of  a  girl  is 
to  the  growth  of  a  boy.     The  fancy  atta.ns  at  an  early 
period  to  the  perfection  of  its  beauty,  its  power,  and  its 
fruitfulness  ;  and,  as  it  is  first  to  ripen,  it  is  also  first  to 
fade.     It  has  generally  lost  something  of  its  bloom  and 
freshness  before  the  sterner  faculties  have  reached  matur- 
ity •  and  it  is  commonly  withered  and  barren  while  those 
faculties  still  retain  all  their  energy.     It  rarely  happens 
that   the   fancy   and   the   judgment  grow  together       it 
happens  still  more  rarely  that  the  judgment  grows  faster 
than  the  fancy.     This  seems,  however,  to  have  been  the 
ease   with   Bacon.      His   boyhood   and   youth   appear  to 
have   been   singularly  sedate.     His   gigantic    scheme    ot 
philosophical  reform  is  said  by  some  writers  to  have  been 
planned  before  he  was  fifteen,  and  was  undoubtedly  p  anned 
while   he   was   still  young.     He   observed    as    vigilantly, 
meditated  as  deeply,  and  judged  as  temperately  when  he 
crave  his  first  work  to  the  world  as  at  the  close  of  his  long 
Sareer      But   in   eloquence,  in  sweetness  and  variety  ot 
expression,  and  in  richness  of  illustration,  his  later  writ- 
ings are  far  superior  to  those  of  his  youth."  " 

1  Promus,  1127.     (Every  one  wishes  that  to  be  destroyed  which  he 

^'^ lit  this  sentence  be  called  into  distinct  relation  with  the  sup- 
posed writin-s  of  Joseph  Addison,  one  of  the  actors  of  the  Defoe 
?Sd.  Thele  short  essays  are  the  polished  P^^^^y^.^,  ^^  i^;^';^;?/ 
later  vears  and  are  replete  with  the  subtleties  of  fable,  allegory, 
re  gion  politics,  and  pfulosophy  In  a  foo^-^^e  to  these  wntrngs 
vol  iv  p  196,  it  is  said  :  "  His  dreams  and  visions  lave  moie  than 
all  the"'grace  and  invention  of  Plato's.  In  this,  at  least,  he  was  a 
true  poet." 


188  LIFE   OF    BACON. 

Bacon  not  only  knew  much,  but  once  knowing  seldom 
forgot,  and  his  incomparable  imagination  held  not  prec- 
edency, but  moved  ever  with  or  in  the  train  of  his 
reason.  It  is  said  of  him  that  he  read  much  and  winnowed 
quickly,  and  cared  little  either  for  novelty  or  for  antiquity. 

In  composition  he  seems  to  have  sought  chiefly  clear- 
ness, then  brevity  and  suavity.  His  narrational  style,  as 
displayed  in  the  New  Atlantis  and  in  much  of  the  Defoe 
literature,  lay  more  in  the  direction  of  his  recreation  and 
leisure.  By  short,  wisely  chosen,  and  adroitly  used  words 
he  made  the  mechanism  of  thought,  and,  in  his  Shake- 
speare the  choicest  bits  of  it,  yield  quickly  to  his  pur- 
poses.' 

Concerning  his  tentative  literary  methods  between  1592 
and  1595,  Cliurch  in  his  Life  of  Bacon,  in  the  English 
Men  of  Letters  Series,  p.  21,  says  :  "  Among  the  frag- 
mentary papers  belonging  to  this  time  which  have  come 
down,  not  the  least  curious  are  those  which  throw  light 
on  his  manner  of  working.  AVhile  he  was  following  out 
the  great  ideas  which  were  to  be  the  basis  of  his  philoso- 
phy, he  was  as  busy  and  as  painstaking  in  fashioning  the 
instruments  by  which  they  were  to  be  expressed  ;  and  in 
these  papers  we  have  the  records  and  specimens  of  this 
preparation.  He  was  a  great  collector  of  sentences,  prov- 
erbs, quotations,  sayings,  illustrations,  anecdotes,  and  he 
seems  to  have  read  sometimes  simply  to  gather  phrases 
and  apt  words.  He  jots  down  at  random  any  good  and 
pointed  remark  which  comes  into  his  thought  or  his 
memory  ;  at  another  time  he  groups  a  set  of  stock  quota- 

'  Promus,  1062.  (Cast  aside  inflated  diction  and  footand-a-half- 
long  words.)  Promus,  1665.  {Such  lioweT  lies  in  proper  arrange- 
ment and  connection,  so  capable  are  the  meanest,  commonest,  and  plain- 
est things  of  ornament  and  grace.)  Note  this  in  connection  with 
Crusoe.  Promus,  1064.  {And  moulds  Ms  fiction  in  siicli  a  way  as 
blends  his  false  with  what  is  true.)  Promus,  1038.  {Nor  have  I  a 
doubt  in  my  mind  how  hard  it  is  to  overcome  those  {d/fficiilties]  by  style, 
and  add  this  honour  to  matters  [so]  mean.)  Promus,  1033.  ( Ye  shall 
sing  in  alternate  verses.  Said  of  couplets  made  b}^  two  rivals  alter- 
nately.) Promus,  1059.  {The  poet  icho  desires  to  vary  unifoinnity  in 
a  monstrous  way.)  Promus,  1044.  {0  imitators,  a  servile  herd.) 
Promus,  1053.  {But  Lucilius  was  of  high  merit  as  a  poet,  because  he 
intermixed  Greek  and  Latin  worda.  0  late  to  begin  your  studies  .f) 
Promus,  1029.  {What  wheti  a  letter  defrauded  of  its  lawful  sound.) 
Promus,  1066.  {Therefore  I  discharge  the  oflice  of  a  witetstone,  which, 
itself  incompetent  to  cut,  can  render  iron  sharp.) 


LIFE   OF    BACOivT.  189 

tions  with  a  special  drift,  bearing  on  some  subject,  such 
as  the  faults  of  universities  or  the  habits  of  lawyers.  Noth- 
ing is  too  minute  for  his  notice.  He  brings  together  in 
great  profusion  mere  forms,  varied  turns  of  expression, 
heads  and  tails  of  clauses  and  paragraphs,  transitions,  con- 
nections ;  he  notes  down  fashions  of -compliment,  of  ex- 
cuse or  repartee,  even  morning  and  evening  salutations  ; 
he  records  neat  and  convenient  opening  and  concluding 
sentences,  ways  of  speaking  more  adapted  than  others  to 
give  a  special  colour  or  direction  to  what  the  speaker  or 
writer  has  to  say — all  that  hook  and-eye  work  which  seems 
so  trivial  and  passes  so  unnoticed  as  a  matter  of  course, 
and  which  yet  is  often  hard  to  reach,  and  wliich  makes  all 
the  difference  between  tameness  and  liveliness,  between 
clearness  and  obscurity — all  the  difference,  not  merely  to 
the  ease  and  naturalness,  but  often  to  the  logical  force  of 
speech.  These  collections  it  was  his  way  to  sift  and  tran- 
scribe again  and  again,  adding  as  well  as  omitting.  From 
one  of  these,  belonging  to  1594  and  the  following  years, 
the  Promus  of  Formularies  and  Elegancies,  Mr.  Spedding 
has  given  curious  extracts  ;  and  the  whole  collection  has 
been  recently  edited  by  Mrs.  Henry  Pott.  Thus  it  was 
that  he  prepared  himself  for  what,  as  we  read  it,  or  as  his 
audience  heard  it,  seems  the  suggestion  or  recollection  of 
the  moment.  Bacon  was  always  much  more  careful  of  the 
value  or  aptness  of  a  thought  than  of  its  appearing  new 
and  original.  Of  all  great  writers  he  least  minds  repeating 
himself,  perhaps  in  the  very  same  words  ;  so  that  a  simile, 
an  illustration,  a  quotation  pleases  him,  he  returns  to  it — 
he  is  never  tired  of  it  ;  it  obviously  gives  him  satisfaction 
to  introduce  it  again  and  again.  These  collections  of  odds 
and  ends  illustrate  another  point  in  his  literary  habits. 
His  was  a  mind  keenly  sensitive  to  all  analogies  and  affini- 
ties, impatient  of  a  strict  and  rigid  logical  groove,  but 
spreading,  as  it  were,  tenticles  on  all  sides  in  quest  of 
chance  prey,  and  quickened  into  a  whole  system  of  imagi- 
nation by  the  electric  quiver  imparted  by  a  single  word,  at 
once  the  key  and  symbol  of  the  thinking  it  had  led  to. 
And  so  he  puts  down  word  or  phrase,  so  enigmatical  to  us 
who  see  it  by  itself,  which  to  him  would  wake  up  a  whole 
train  of  ideas,  as  he  remembered  the  occasion  of  it — how 
at  a  certain  time  and  place  this  word  set  the  whole  mov- 
ing, seemed  to  breathe  new  life  and  shed  new  light,  and 


190  LIFE    OF    BACO]>r. 

has  remained  the  token,  meaningless  in  itself,  which  re- 
minds him  of  so  much. 

"  When  we  come  to  read  his  letters,  his  speeches,  his 
works,  we  come  continually  on  the  results  and  proofs  of  this 
early  labour.'  Some  of  the  most  memorable  and  familiar 
passages  of  his  writings  are  to  be  traced  from  the  storehouses 
which  he  filled  in  these  years  of  preparation.  An  example 
of  this  correspondence  between  the  note-book  and  the 
composition  is  to  be  seen  in  a  paper  belonging  to  this 
period,  written  apparently  to  form  part  of  a  mask,  or  as 
he  himself  calls  it,  a  'Conference  of  Pleasure,'  and  en- 
titled the  Praise  of  Knowledge.'" 

And  in  Sonnet  77  he  not  only  reminds  himself  of  his 
nnhappy  slowness  in  his  work,  but  of  this  good  note-book 
habit  of  jotting  down  his  thoughts  in  order  that  they  may 
take  a  new  acquaintance  of  the  mind.     He  says  : 

"  Thy  glass  will  show  thee  how  thy  beauties  wear, 
Thy  dial  how  thy  precious  minutes  waste  ; 
Tlie  vacant  leaves  tliy  mind's  imprint  will  bear, 
And  of  this  book  this  learning  may'st  thou  taste  :* 
Tlie  wrinkles  which  thy  glass  will  truly  show, 
Of  mouthed  graves  will  give  thee  memory  ; 
Thou  by  thy  dial's  shady  stealth  may'st  know 
Time's  thievish  progress  to  eternity. 
Look,  what  thy  memory  cannot  contain, 
Commit  to  these  waste  blanks  ;  and  thou  shalt  find 
Those  children  nurs'd,  deliver'd  from  thy  brain, 
To  take  a  new  acquaintance  of  thy  mind.' 
These  offices,  so  oft  as  thou  wilt  look, 
Shall  profit  thee,  and  much  enrich  thy  book." 

These  note-book  methods  most  vividly  appear  in  the 
Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  where  profuse  and  rich  quota- 
tions from  ancient  lore,  as  selected  particulars,  are  made 
the  basis  of  conclusions  in  conformity  to  the  methods  of 
the  Novum  Organum.  In  vol.  ii.,  p.  351,  after  referring 
to  certain  collected  instances  pro  and  con  it  is  s'tated  : 
"  The  sum  of  which  I  will  briefly  epitomise  (for  I  light 

1  And,  we  add,  they  may  be  traced  into  every  phase  of  the  writings 
under  review. 

5  The  word  "  taste"  and  "  tasted  "  Bacon  often  applied  to  matters 
literary,  as  we  shall  see  ;  and  he  says  :  "  Of  the  New  Orgauon  I  say 
nothing,  nor  shall  I  give  any  taste  of  it  here  ;  as  I  purpose  by  the 
divine  favour  to  compose  a  complete  work  on  that  subject, — being 
the  most  important  thing  of  all."    (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  421.) 


LIFE   OF   BACON".  191 

my  candle  from  other  torches'),  and  I  enlarge  again  upon 
occasion,  as  shall  seem  best  to  me,  and  that  after  mine 
own  method." 

From  the  foregoing  it  may  be  seen,  if  our  position  be 
true,  that  the  so-called  Shakespeare  writings  were  not  the 
result  of  mere  spontaneity  but  rather  of  a  rigorous  levy 
upon  the  mental  energies.  But  in  his  work  at  p.  103, 
Church  of  Bacon  says  :  "  So  he  died  :  the  brightest,  rich- 
est, largest  mind  but  one,  in  the  age  which  had  seen 
Shakespeare  and  his  fellows  ;  so  bright  and  rich  and  large 
that  there  have  been  found  those  who  identify  him  with 
the  writer  of  Hamlet  and  Othello.  That  is  idle.  Bacon, 
could  no  more  have  written  the  plays  than  Shakespeare 
could  have  prophesied  the  triumphs  of  natural  philoso- 
phy." But  with  these  conceded  gifts  and  methods,  why? 
From  what  rendered  reasons  could  he  not?  From  these, 
and  not  sweeping  conclusions,  would  we  have  our  judg- 
ment corrected  if  in  error.  The  research  of  the  one  will 
be  found  the  research  of  the  other  ;  central  thoughts  of  the 
one,  will  be  found  the  central  thoughts  of  the  other  ;  the 
vocabulary  and  set  forms  of  expression  of  the  one,  will  be 
found  the  vocabulary  and  set  forms  of  expression  of  the 
other  ;  and  so  to  the  end,  as  we  shall  see. 

While  a  reformer,  and  in  a  sense  not  yet  made  mani- 
fest. Bacon  was  still  ever  conservative,  and  especially  as 
to  all  civil  affairs,  and  v/hich  he  thought  ought  to  be  like 
the  advance  of  nature  scarcely  discernible  in  its  motion 
and  visible  only  in  its  issues.  "  Let  a  living  spring  flow 
into  the  stagnant  waters"  are  his  words.  And  hence  it 
may  be  seen  why  he  did  not  seek  in  the  plays  to  disturb 
the  popuUice  with  political  issues.  These  and  the  subject 
of  inspired  divinity  were  to  Bacon's  mind  the  last  subjects 
to  be  in  any  way  thus  popularly  handled  ;  and  hence — say- 
ing nothing  as  to  a  subtle — in  a  popular  sense,  they  are 

'  This  is  the  Baconian  word  for  this  place,  and  observe  its  use 
throughout.  Note  the  word  in  his  mentioned  letter  to  King  James, 
page  95,  and  see  p.  178.  And  in  Measure  for  Measure,  Act  1., 
so.  1,  p.  20,  we  have  : 

"  Heaven  doth  with  us,  as  we  with  torches  do  ; 
Not  hght  thorn  for  themselves  :  for  if  our  virtues 
Did  not  go  forth  of  us,  'twere  all  alike 
As  if  we  had  them  not." 


192  LIFE   OF  BACON". 

notably  absent  from  this  branch  of  his  work.*  And  this 
is  all,  we  think,  that  need  be  here  said  concerning  the 
politics  or  the  religion  of  the  plays.  He,  on  the  other 
hand,  as  to  arts,  says  there  is  "  a  great  difference  between 
arts  and  civil  affairs  ;  arts  and  sciences  should  be  like 
mines  resounding  on  all  sides  with  new  works,  and  further 
progress  :  but  it  is  not  good  to  try  experiments  in  states 
except  the  necessity  be  urgent  and  the  utility  evident  ; 
and  well  to  beware  that  it  is  the  reformation  that  draweth 
on  the  change,  and  not  the  desire  of  change  that  pre- 
tendeth  the  reformation."     (Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  115.) 

The  plays  are  works  of  art,  and  embrace  much  more,  we 
think,  than  has  yet  been  seen  in  them.  Their  external 
was  evidently  designed  to  entertain  the  people,  to  show 
the  outcome  of  bad  motives,  and  to  furnish  forth  means 
for  their  author  while  in  the  performance  of  work  which 
he  regarded  of  more  vital  importance. 

As  a  judge,  and  even  during  his  troubles  as  chancellor, 
it  has  not  been  pretended  that  any  decree  made  by  him 
was  unjust,  even  though  certain  would-be  bribers  may 
have  been  tricked  by  his  serpent  and  dove  theories.^ 

AVhile  unrelentingly  firm  to  the  ends  which  he  regarded  as 
worthy,  he  still  in  their  attainment  indulged  in  the  suavity 
and  ceremoniousness  of  his  day.'  Here,  as  in  the  works  of 
nature,  he  by  indirection  found  direction  out.  This  was 
art.  This  was  the  shepherd's  crook.  This  was  following 
the  line  of  least  resistance.     And  this  was  Bacon. 

His  political  methods  may  be  best  seen  in  the  men- 
tioned A.  D.  B.  mask  upon  courts  of  princes,  and 
where  he  displays  an  accui'ate  judgment  as  to  the  foibles 
of  men.  That  he  was  gifted  in  satire  and  humor  may  be 
seen  in  his  Apophthegms,  and  which  show  a  taste  for  all 
those  elements  wrought  into  the  plays.  He  of  them  says  : 
"  They  are  '  mucrones  verborum,'  pointed  speeches.  Cicero 
prettily  calleth  them  '  salinas,'  salt  pits,  that  you  may 

'  In  his  essay  on  "  Honour  and  Reputation"  he  says  :  "If  a  man 
80  temper  his  actions,  as  in  some  one  of  them  he  dotli  content  every 
faction  or  combination  of  people,  tlie  music  will  be  the  fuller." 

2  In  All's  Well  that  Ends  Well,  Act  iv.,  sc.  3,  p.  351,  it  is  said  : 

"  I  think't  no  sin 
To  cousin  him,  that  would  unjustly  win." 

3  Promus,  1324.  (The  end  is  better  than  [the  course,  means]  to 
the  end.) 


LIFE   OF    BACON.  193 

extract  salt  ont  of,  and  sprinkle  it  where  you  will.  They 
serve  to  be  interlaced  in  continued  speech.  They  serve 
to  be  recited  upon  occasion  of  themselves.  They  serve, 
if  you  take  out  the  kernel  of  them  and  make  them  your 
own.  I  have,  for  my  recreation,  in  my  sickness,  fanned 
the  old,  not  omitting  any,  because  they  are  vulgar  (for 
many  vulgar  ones  are  excellent  good),  nor  for  the  mean- 
ness of  the  person,  but  because  they  are  dull  and  flat  ;  and 
added  many  new,  that  otherwise  would  have  died." 
(Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  107.) 

To  those  who  may  think  that  Lord  Bacon  could  not 
have  been  author  of  Roxana,  Moll  Flanders,  and  the 
plays,  by  reason  of  alluded-to  elements,  let  them  but  read 
the  Apophthegms.  We  have  not  here  an  unsunned  clod, 
but  an  all-sided  man,'  with  gifts  as  wide  as  ever  fell  within 
the  reaches  of  mortality. 

Until  Lord  Bacon  had  attained  the  age  of  forty-seven 
years,  when  by  King  James's  appointment  he  became 
solicitor-general,  his  time  had  been  almost  wholly  devoted 
to  study  and  to  literary  work.  In  1573,  at  the  early  age 
of  twelve,  he  and  his  two  years  elder  brother,  Anthony, 
were  admitted  to  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  one  of  Eng- 
land's two  great  national  seats  of  learning.'  Even  at 
tliese  years  we  find  him  meditating  not  merely  upon  the 
laws  of  sound,  but  even  upon  those  of  the  imagination, 
concerning  which  he  later  expended  so  much  thought, 
and   in  the  fringes  or  borders  of   which  he  reached  the 

'  In  the  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  Act  i.,  sc.  1,  p.  415,  we  have  : 

"  I  am  in  all  affected  as  yourself. 
Glad  that  you  thus  contiuue  your  resolve, 
To  suck  the  sweets  of  sweet  philosophy. 
Only,  good  master,  while  we  do  admire 
This  virtue,  and  this  moral  discipline. 
Let's  be  no  stoics,  nor  no  stocks,  I  pray  ; 
Or  so  devote  to  Aristotle's  ethics. 
As  Ovid  be  an  outcast  quite  abjur'd. 
Balk  logic  with  acquaintance  that  you  have, 
And  practise  rhetoric  in  your  common  talk  : 
Music  and  poesy  use  to  quicken  you_: 
The  mathematics,  and  the  metaphysics, 
Fall  to  them  as  you  find  your  stomach  serves  you  : 
No  profit  grows  where  is  no  pleasure  ta'en  : — 
In  brief,  sir,  study  what  you  most  affect." 

*  Lord  Bacon  was  the  youngest  of  eight  children— six  by  a  former 
marriage.     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  1.,  p.  3.) 

7 


194  LIFE   OF   BACON". 

conclusion  that  imagination  may  become  a  cause,  and  even 
a  cure  of  disease  ;  and  due  not  to  marvel,  but  to  material 
changes  wrought  by  it  in  the  bodily  humors.  See  in 
this  connection  the  ending  of  ch.  1,  Book  4,  of  the  De 
Augmentis.  And  in  ch.  1  of  Book  5,  concerning  the 
imagination,  he  says  : 

"  Logic  discourses  of  the  Understanding  and  Reason  ; 
Ethics  of  the  Will,  Appetite,  and  Affections  :  the  one 
produces  determinations,  the  other  actions.  It  is  true 
indeed  that  the  imagination  performs  the  office  of  an 
agent  or  messenger  or  proctor  in  both  provinces,  both  the 
judicial  and  the  ministerial.  For  sense  sends  all  kinds  of 
images  over  to  imagination  for  reason  to  Judge  of  ;  and 
reason  again,  when  it  has  made  its  judgment  and  selection, 
sends  them  over  to  imagination  before  the  decree  be  put 
in  execution.  For  voluntary  motion  is  ever  preceded  and 
incited  by  imagination  ;  so  that  imagination  is  as  a  com- 
mon instrument  to  both, — both  reason  and  will ;  saving  that 
this  Janus  of  imagination  has  two  different  faces  ;  for  the 
face  towards  reason  has  the  print  of  truth,  and  the  face 
towards  action  has  the  print  of  goodness  ;  which  neverthe- 
less are  faces, — quales  decet  esse  sororuin.  [Such  as  sisters' 
faces  should  be.]  Neither  is  the  imagination  simply  and 
only  a  messenger  ;  but  it  is  either  invested  with  or  usurps 
no  small  authority  in  itself,  besides  the  simple  duty  of  the 
messenger.  For  it  was  well  said  by  Aristotle,  '  That  the 
mind  has  over  the  body  that  commandment  which  the 
lord  has  over  a  bondman  ;  but  that  reason  has  over  the 
imagination  that  commandment  which  a  magistrate  has 
over  a  free  citizen,'  who  may  come  also  to  rule  in  his  turn. 
For  we  see  that  in  matters  of  faith  and  religion  our  imag- 
ination raises  itself  above  our  reason  ;  not  that  divine 
illumination  resides  in  the  imagination  ;  its  seat  being 
rather  in  the  very  citadel  of  the  mind  and  understanding  ; 
but  that  the  divine  grace  uses  the  motions  of  the  imagina- 
tion as  an  instrument  of  illumination,  just  as  it  uses  the 
motions  of  the  will  as  an  instrument  of  virtue  ;  which  is 
the  reason  why  religion  ever  sought  access  to  the  mind  by 
similitudes,  types,  parables,  visions,  dreams." 

While  in  the  university  it  was  that  his  dislike  of  and 
his  disbelief  in  the  then  extant  philosophy  arose,  and 
particularly  as  taught  by  its  great  disciple,  Aristotle,  and 
due  chiefly  to  its  unfruitful  methods.     "  In  the  univer- 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  195 

sities/  he  says,  "  they  learn  nothing  but  to  believe  :  first 
that  others  know  that  which  they  know  not  ;  and  after 
themselves  know  tliat  which  they  know  not.  They  are 
like  becalmed  ships  ;  they  never  move  but  by  the  winds  of 
other  men's  truth  and  have  no  oars  of  their  own  to  steer 
withal." 

When  he  left  Cambridge,  which  was  at  the  end  of  his 
third  year,  it  was  with  the  conviction  that  the  institutions 
of  learning  were  stagnant  as  to  all  true  advancement  in 
knowledge,  and  he  seems  ever  after  to  have  thought  him- 
self called  as  by  some  irresistible  impulse  to  its  renova- 
tion, or  reformation  ;  and  to  have  been  within  the  bounds 
of  duty  only  when  in  some  way  at  work  in  the  line  of  this 
seemingly  destined  mission — the  good  of  men.  (See  Sonnets 
100  and  101.)  As  to  this,  he  in  our  mentioned  Head-light 
says  :  "  This  whether  it  be  curiosity,  or  vainglory,  or 
nature,  or,  if  you  take  it  favorably,  philanthropia,  is  so 
fixed  in  my  mind,  as  it  cannot  be  removed." 

All  must,  we  think,  unite  in  saying  that  his  labors  ever 
tended  in  the  direction  indicated,  whatever  conclusions 
may  be  reached  as  to  his  private  life.  For  this  reason  we 
feel  to  investigate  with  care  and  to  suspend  still  our  judg- 
ment. We  have  here  a  life  and  methods  far  out  of  the 
common  road  ;  envy  can  do  much,  and,  as  stated  in  the 
play  of  The  Tempest,  "  misery  acquaints  us  with  strange 
bedfellows." 

Upon  leaving  the  university,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  he 
spent  some  time  abroad,  and  particularly  in  France,  where 
diplomacy,  cipher  writing,  and  statistics,  as  well  as  philoso- 
phy, occupied  his  thoughts.  While  in  France,  he  was 
somewhat  under  the  care  of  Elizabeth's  faithful  minister 
at  the  French  court,  Sir  Amias  Paulett,  and  acquired,  it 
is  said,  durable  friendships  with  grave  statesmen  and  men 
of  letters.  While  thus  absent  he  received  news  of  his 
father's  somewhat  sudden  death,  occurring  February  30, 
1579,  whereupon  he  immediately  returned  to  England. 
By  this  event  a  distinguished  influence  was  shorn  away, 
as  well  as  an  intended  financial  provision  ;  and  Bacon's 
future  prospects  became  at  once  oversiiadowed,  and  not 
merely  from  want  of  means,  against  which  for  years  he 
was  now  compelled  to  struggle,  but  by  reason,  as  well,  of 
jealousy  or  lack  of  appreciation  on  the  part  of  his  relatives 
— the  Cecils — who,  heading  the  party  in  power,  had  the 


196  LIFE   OF   BACON". 

ear  of  the  queen.  His  relatives  having  been  schooled  not 
merely  in  the  law,  but  in  the  then  opening  science  of  Eng- 
lish statesmanship,  these  fields  seemed  to  lie  most  open  to 
him,  though  neither  but  for  lack  of  means  would  have 
been  chosen,  as  he  himself  tells  us.  Why  he  did  not  now 
devote  himself  exclusively  to  philosophy  and  letters  may 
be  found  vividly  pictured  in  The  Anatomy  of  Melancholy, 
under  the  title  "  Love  of  Learning  and  Overmuch  Study. 
With  a  Digression  of  the  Misery  of  Scholars,  and  Why  the 
Muses  are  Melancholy,"  vol.  i.,  p.  185. 

In  1580,  the  year  following  his  father's  death,  he  by 
letter,  both  to  his  Uncle  and  Aunt  Burghley,  sought  some 
place  or  preferment,  by  asking  of  them  recommendations 
to  the  queen.  This  failing  to  bring  the  desired  results,  to 
the  law  he  reluctantly  turned  his  attention,  and  was  this 
year  admitted  to  Gray's  Ian,  of  which  society  his  father 
had  for  many  years  been  a  prominent  member,  and  of 
whose  society  of  ancients  he  had  himself  been  a  member 
since  the  age  of  sixteen.  In  the  law,  as  elsewhere,  he  be- 
came proficient,  by  mastering  each  step  in  the  advance. 
And  though  it  was  to  him  ever  but  an  accessory,  and  not 
his  principal  study,  he  still  became  as  proficient,  perhaps, 
not  merely  in  its  precepts,  precedents,  and  authorities, 
but  in  its  philosophy,  as  any  man  of  his  day,  his  great 
rival  Coke  not  excepted.  He  indeed  explored  deeply  the 
principles  of  universal  justice  and  looked  at  his  profession 
in  the  line  of  his  philosophy.  He  says  :  "  I  hold  every 
man  is  a  debtor  to  his  profession,  from  the  which,'  as  men 
do  of  course  seek  to  receive  countenance  and  profit,  so 
ought  they  to  endeavour  themselves  by  way  of  amends,  to 
be  a  help  and  ornament."  At  the  festivities  of  Gray's 
Inn  he  often  assisted,  and  was  the  author  of  its  most  brill- 
iant masks.  He  took  much  interest  in  its  spacious  gar- 
dens. Observe  the  emphasis  upon  the  garden  in  the  plays, 
in  Addison,  and  everywhere  in  this  literature.  In  his 
Essay  on  Gardens  he  says  :  "  God  Almighty  first  planted 
a  garden  ;  and,  indeed,  it  is  the  purest  of  human  pleas- 
ures ;  it  is  the  greatest  refreshment  to  the  spirits  of  man  ; 
without  which  buildings  and  palaces  are  but  gross  handi- 
work ;  and  a  man  shall  ever  see,  that,  when  ages  grow  to 

^  This  form  of  expression,  "  from  the  which,"  and  "  to  the  which," 
may  be  found  quite  frequent  in  the  plays.  See  our  quotation  from 
Othello,  p.  197. 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  197 

civility  and  elegancy,  men  come  to  build  stately,  sooner 
than  to  garden  finely  ;  as  if  gardening  were  the  greater 
perfection."  From  one  of  his  alluded-to  masks  we,  as  to 
a  poetic  use  of  the  word  garden,  quote  as  follows  : 

"  The  gardens  of  love  wherein  he  now  playeth  himself, 
are  fresh  to-day  and  fading  to  morrow,  as  the  sun  com- 
forts them  or  is  turned  from  them.  But  the  gardens  of 
the  Muses  keep  the  privilege  of  the  golden  age  ;  they  ever 
flourish  and  are  in  league  with  time.  The  monuments  of 
wit  survive  the  monuments  of  power  :  the  verses  of  a  poet 
endure  without  a  syllable  lost,  while  states  and  empires 
pass  many  periods.  Let  him  not  think  he  shall  descend, 
for  he  is  now  upon  a  hill  as  a  ship  is  mounted  upon  the 
ridge  of  a  wave  ;  but  that  hill'  of  the  Muses  is  above 
tempests,  always  clear  and  calm  ;  a  hill  of  the  goodliest 
discovery  that  man  can  have,  being  a  prospect  upon  all 
the  errors  and  wanderings  of  the  present  and  former 
times.  Yea,  in  some  cliff  it  leadeth  the  eye  beyond  the 
horizon  of  time,  and  giveth  no  obscure  divinations  of 
times  to  come.  So  that  if  he  will  indeed  lead  vitani 
vitalein,  a  life  that  unites  safety  and  dignity,  pleasure  and 
merit  ;  if  he  will  win  admiration  without  envy  ;  if  he 
will  be  in  the  feast  and  not  in  the  throng,  in  the  light  and. 
not  in  the  heat  ;  let  him  embrace  the  life  of  study  and 
contemplation."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p.  379.) 

Again  :  as  to  the  garden,  we  in  Othello,  Act  i.,  sc.  3, 
p.  440,  have  : 

"  lago.  Virtue  ?  a  fig  !  'tis  in  ourselves  tliat  we  are  thus,  or  thus. 
Our  bodies  are  gardens,  to  the  which  our  wills  are  gardeners  :  so 
that,  if  we  will  plant  nettles,  or  sow  lettuce  ;  set  hyssop,  and  weed 
up  thyme  ;  supply  it  with  one  gender  of  herbs,  or  distract  it  with 
many  ;  either  to  have  it  sterile  with  idleness,  or  manured  with  in- 
dustry ;  why,  the  power  and  corrigible  authority  of  this  lies  in  our 
wills.  If  the  balance  of  our  lives  had  not  one  scale  of  reason  to 
poise  another  of  sensuality,  the  blood  and  baseness  of  our  natures 
would  conduct  us  to  most  preposterous  conclusions  :  But  we  have 
reason,  to  cool  our  raging  motions,  our  carnal  stings,  our  unbitted 
lusts  ;  whereof  I  take  this,  that  you  call— love,  to  be  a  sect,  or 
scion. 

' '  Rod.  It  cannot  be. 

"  lugo.  It  is  merely  a  lust  of  the  blood,  and  a  permission  of  the 
will.  Come  be  a  man  :  drown  thyself  ?  drown  cats  and  blind 
puppies." 

'  Let  the  emphasis  placed  upon  the  "  hill  "  in  these  writings  bo 
noted. 


198  LIFE   OF   BACON. 

At  Grray's  Inn  he  lived  absorbed  in  work,  much  as  a 
recluse  in  his  chambers.  Here  it  was  that,  in  1583,  his 
first  essay  on  the  instauration  of  philosophy  was  composed, 
and  to  which,  as  stated,  he  gave  the  title  Teinporis  Partus 
Maximus.  On  June  27th  of  the  previous  year  he  was 
admitted  utter  barrister,  and  in  this  habit  is  said  occasion- 
ally to  have  been  seen  abroad  in  the  city.  This  did  not 
confer  the  right  to  practise,  however,  and  he  was  twenty- 
six  years  of  age  before  he  became  a  bencher — that  is, 
before  he  was  called  within  bars,  upon  which  event  he,  in 
a  letter  to  his  Uncle  Burghley,  among  other  things,  says  : 
"  I  find  in  my  simple  observation,  that  they  which  live  as 
it  were  in  umhra  and  not  in  public  or  frequent  action, 
how  moderately  and  modestly  soever  they  behave  them- 
selves, yet  lahorant  invidia  ;  I  find  also  that  such  persons 
as  are  of  nature  bashful  (as  myself  am),  whereby  they  want 
that  plausible  familiarity  which  others  have,  are  often 
mistaken  for  proud.  But  once  I  know  well,  and  I  most 
humbly  beseech  your  lordship  to  believe  that  arrogancy 
and  overweaning  is  so  far  from  my  nature,  as  if  I  think 
well  of  myself  in  any  thing  it  is  in  this,  that  I  am  free 
from  that  vice."  (Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  23  )  At  the  age  of 
twenty-eight  he  was  by  the  Society  of  Gi*ay's  Inn  chosen 
lent  reader,  and  by  the  42d  of  Elizabeth  double  reader  and 
in  his  thirtieth  year  he  was  considered  one  of  the  queen's 
counsel  learned  extraordinary  in  the  law,  but  which,  being 
held  without  warrant  or  patent,  yielded  him  no  revenue. 

He,  as  a  member  of  the  House  of  Commons,  was  in  the 
Parliament  which  met  in  November,  1584,  while  the 
nation  was  in  its  white  heat  concerning  the  maintenance 
of  the  Protestant  or  Reformed  faith  as  against  Spain  and 
the  influences  of  Rome.  A  bull  of  excommunication  had 
been  issued  against  Elizabeth  by  the  pope  as  early  as  1569. 
Bacon  was  also  in  the  Parliament  which  met  in  October, 
1586,  and  which  passed  Judgment  upon  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots,  and  was  one  of  the  committee  to  whom  the  matter 
was  referi'ed.     See  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  pp.  61-67. 

During  this  year  he  began  to  indulge  his  pen  in  care- 
fully prepared  papers  touching  church  affairs,  and  one 
concerning  a  policy  to  keep  the  Catholic  interest  in  check 
was  prepared   by  him  in   the  previous  year.*     This  was 

'  Such  papers  at  this  time  circulated  from  hand  to  hand,  and  were 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  199 

followed  by  others  concerning  the  Church  of  England, 
and  with  the  view  of  harmonizing  its  discordant  elements, 
consisting,  as  in  the  days  of  Defoe,  of  the  Church  party, 
the  Nonconformists,  and  the  Catholics.  In  1589  he  pre- 
pared an  important  paper  of  this  kind,  when  the  High 
Church  party  and  the  Nonconformists,  now  beginning  to 
be  called  Puritans,  were  in  much  heat.  Though  of  Puri- 
tan stock,  still  no  merely  sectarian  mould  could  compass 
him. 

The  first  reformers  had  left  room  for  such  variety  of 
opinion  as  time  was  likely  to  breed.  But  their  success- 
ors inherited  not  their  policy  and  chose  not  to  tolerate 
further  reform,  and  so  in  the  perilous  times  of  1584  a 
struggle  arose  between  the  bishops  and  the  Nonconform- 
ists, wherein  Elizabeth,  through  fear  or  otherwise,  decided 
against  the  Puritan  element.  Commissioners  appointed 
by  the  crown  chose  now  to  silence  and  remove  such  min- 
isters as  they  approved  not,  and  thus  a  check  was  put 
upon  the  free  interpretation  of  the  Word.  Concerning 
this  step  by  Elizabeth,  Mr.  Spedding  says:  "I  doubt 
whether  there  has  been  a  more  important  crisis  in  English 
history,  or  whether  the  queen  ever  made  a  greater  mistake 
than  in  choosing  this  moment  to  stop  the  tide  and  put 
herself  in  direct  opposition  to  this  party.  She  succeeded 
indeed  ;  she  carried  her  point  and  stood  her  ground  dur- 
ing her  own  life  ;  but  it  was  at  the  expense  of  creating  a 
division  among  the  Protestant  party,  which  ended  in  the 
overthrow  of  the  monarchy  itself  for  a  time,  and  in  making 
the  existence  of  a  national  English  Church,  in  any  true 
sense  of  the  word  national,  an  impossibility  to  this  day. 
The  Church  of  England  emerged  from  the  storm  with  the 
name  and  legal  rights  and  temporal  attractions,  but  with- 
out the  moral  and  spiritual  authority  of  a  national  church, 
to  be  thenceforward  only  one  of  many  Protestant  sects  into 
which  the  English  people  are  divided."  (Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  i.,  p.  39.) 

Bacon's  mother  longed  to  see  this  step  averted,  and 
sought  a  personal  interview  with  the  crown  adviser, 
Burghley,  for  the  purpose.  See  her  able  letter  to  him 
upon  the  subject  and  the  full  chapter  in  which  it  occurs. 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  pp.  40-42.) 

rarely  published.  They  were  what  would  now  be  called  magazine 
articles. 


200  LIFE    OF    BACOJST. 

The  court  of  Elizabeth  was  divided  into  two  parties, 
the  Cecils — Lord  Burghley  and  his  son  Eobert — being  at 
the  head  of  the  one  party,  and  party  in  power  ;  and  the 
Earl  of  Leicester  and  later  the  Earl  of  Essex  of  the  other. 
Bacon  through  friendship  became  allied  to  Essex,  who 
upon  Leicester's  death,  in  1588,  became  chief  favorite  of 
the  queen.  Though  Essex  at  first  seemed  generous  and 
noble,  he  still  possessed  elements  that  grew  increasingly 
discordant.  In  1591  we  find  Bacon  acting  as  his  confiden- 
tial adviser,  their  acquaintance  beginning,  it  is  said,  in 
the  early  part  of  this  year.  Upon  the  return  of  Bacon's 
brother  Anthony  from  abroad,  the  following  year,  they 
both  exerted  themselves  in  his  interest.  Concerning  their 
employment  Mr.  Speddingsays  :  "  In  both  these  countries 
Essex  had  correspondents,  in  his  intercourse  with  whom 
Anthony  Bacon  appears  to  have  served  him  in  a  capacity 
very  like  that  of  a  modern  undersecretary  of  state  ;  re- 
ceiving all  letters,  which  were  mostly  in  cipher,  in  the 
first  instance  ;  forwarding  them  generally  through  his 
brother  Francis's  hands  to  the  earl,  deciphered  and  accom- 
panied with  their  joint  suggestions  ;  and  finally,  accord- 
ing to  the  instructions  thereupon  returned,  framing  and 
despatching  the  answers." 

Essex  had  been  in  France  during  the  latter  half  of  1591 
as  commander  of  the  forces  sent  to  assist  Henry  the 
Fourth  of  France,  and  the  acquaintance,  it  is  said,  cannot 
be  dated  later  than  the  preceding  July.  Bacon  was  still 
at  Gray's  Inn. 

Though  there  was  at  court  at  this  period  much  pedantry 
and  a  kind  of  grave  learning,  still  that  of  the  lighter  sort 
was  looked  upon  by  the  Burghley  party  with  coldness, 
while  philosophy,  concerning  which  Bacon  was  now  re- 
minding himself  of  his  unhappy  slowness,  was  viewed 
with  positive  suspicion.  At  about  this  juncture,  and  in 
1592,  it  was  that  Bacon,  desirous  of  escape  from  his  pro- 
fession, by  procuring  some  appointment  at,  court  that 
should  3/ield  him  support  and  at  the  same  time  leisure  for 
literary  work,  that  his  noted  letter  to  Lord  Burghley,  set 
out  in  our  introduction  to  this  work,  was  written.  Fol- 
lowing this  letter  he  received  the  right  to  the  reversion  of 
the  registership  of  the  Star  Chamber.  But  as  this  did 
not  fall  into  possession  for  some  twenty  years,  it  was  of 
no  immediate  value  to  him.     We  think  this   matter  is 


LIFE  OF   BACON".  201 

alluded  to  in  The  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  vol.    i.,   p. 
208. 

As  one  of  the  knights  from  Middlesex,  he  sat  in  the 
Parliament  which  met  February  19th,  1592,  and  chiefly  for 
consultation  and  preparations  against  further  Spanish 
designs  upon  England.  Early  in  the  session,  and  on 
March  7th,  he  made  a  speech  which,  we  think,  had  much 
influence  in  curbing  his  freedom  of  action  upon  political 
issues.  It  displeased  the  queen,  and  he  was  made  very 
uncomfortable  by  reason  of  it.  Though  he  favored  the 
subsidies  for  the  present  necessities  of  the  government,  he 
opposed  the  shortness  of  the  time  in  which  they  were  to 
be  raised.  He  likewise  raised  a  question  of  privilege, 
insisting  that  the  Lords  had  no  rights  in  the  deliberations 
of  the  Commons  on  questions  of  supply,  as  such  questions 
were  exclusively  with  them  ;  and  Burghley  and  the  queen 
were  compelled  to  shift  the  position  which  they  had  taken 
in  the  matter.     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  pp.  208-42.) 

He  was  at  once  cliarged  with  seeking  popularity,  and 
for  a  time  he  was  excluded  from  court,  and  was  even  for- 
bidden to  enter  the  queen's  presence.  To  the  Cecils, 
through  whom  the  queen's  displeasure  was  communicated 
to  him,  he,  among  other  things,  though  not  apologizing, 
said  "  he  spoke  in  discharge  of  his  conscience  and  duty  to 
God,  to  the  queen,  and  to  his  country."  Afterwards  in  a 
letter  upon  the  subject  to  the  lord  keeper.  Sir  John  Puck- 
ering, he  says  : 

"  My  Lord  :  It  is  a  great  grief  unto  me,  joined  with 
marvel,  that  her  majesty  should  retain  a  hard  conceit  of 
my  speeches  in  Parliament.  It  might  please  her  sacred 
majesty  to  think  what  my  end  should  be  in  those  speeches, 
if  it  were  not  duty,  and  duty  alone.  I  am  not  so  simple 
but  I  know  the  common  beaten  way  to  please.  And 
whereas  popularity  hath  been  objected,  I  muse  what  care 
I  should  take  to  please  many,  that  take  a  course  of  life  to 
deal  with  few.  On  the  other  side,  her  majesty's  grace 
and  particular  favour  towards  me  hath  been  such,  as  I 
esteem  no  worldly  thing  above  the  comfort  to  enjoy  it, 
except  it  be  the  conscience  to  deserve  it.  But,  if  the  not 
seconding  of  some  particular  person's  opinion  shall  be 
presumption,  and  to  diifer  upon  the  manner  shall  be  to 
impeach  the  end,  it  shall  teach  me  devotion  not  to  exceed 
wishes,  and  those  in  silence.      Yet  notwithstanding  (to 


202  LIFE   OF   BACOJN". 

speak  vainly  as  in  grief),  it  may  be  her  majesty  hath  dis- 
couraged as  good  a  heart  as  ever  looked  towards  her  ser- 
vice, and  as  void  of  self-love.  And  so,  in  more  grief  than 
I  can  well  express,  and  much  more  than  I  can  well  dis- 
semble, I  leave  your  lordship,  being  as  ever,  your  lord- 
ship's entirely  devoted,  etc."  (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p. 
91.) 

Could  he  now  but  have  realized,  as  fully  as  he  was 
ultimately  compelled  to  do,  the  difficulties  of  uniting  in 
one  and  the  same  person  the  incongruous  character  of  the 
politic  courtier  with  that  of  the  sincere  philosopher,  it 
had  been  better.  But  his  refined  tastes  unfitted  him  for 
the  common  walks  of  life,  to  say  nothing  as  to  his  great 
felt  mission  ;  and  his  means  were  such  as  poorly  to  yield 
him  leisure. 

In  a  still  earlier  speech,  and  on  February  25tb,  he  pre- 
sented the  ever-important  question  to  him  touching  im- 
provement of  the  laws,  and  which  after  his  method  was  to 
be  in  their  very  roots  and  foundations.  He  continued 
ever  interested  in  this  subject,  and  late  in  life  prepared  a 
plan  for  the  renovation  and  digest  of  the  whole  body  of 
English  law,  and  particularly  as  to  that  branch  which 
is  penal  in  its  nature.  He  likewise  composed  a  tract 
upon  universal  justice.  The  next  year,  1593,  the  office  of 
attorney- general  fell  vacant,  and  Bacon  earnestly  sought 
the  place.  His  insolent  and  galsome  rival,  Sir  Edward 
Coke,  was  likewise  an  aspirant.  Essex,  of  whom  Bacon 
was  for  a  time  the  ballast  and  intellectual  right  arm, 
became  this  year  a  member  of  the  Privy  Council,  and  now 
in  his  pompous  and  showy  way  undertook  to  forward 
Bacon's  claims  with  the  queen.  To  the  Cecils  Bacon  also 
applied  himself.  After  much  shifting.  Coke  in  April, 
1594,  received  the  appointment.  Bacon  felt  not  only 
deeply  wounded,  but  disgraced.  Coke's  promotion, 
however,  left  vacant  the  solicitor's  place,  and  Bacon's 
debts  pressing  now  somewhat  heavily,  he  made  trial  for 
it.  Again  Essex  pretended  assistance,  but  after  a  tedious 
and  protracted  effort  Mr.  Sargent  Fleming  received  the 
appointment.  November  5th,  1595,  and  Bacon,  among  other 
things,  writes  to  Essex  :  "  For  means,  I  value  that  most  ; 
and  the  rather  because  1  am  purposed  not  to  follow  the 
practice  of  the  law  (if  her  Majesty  command  me  in  any 
particular,  I  shall  be  ready  to  do  her  willing  service)  :  and 


LIFE   OF   BACON.  203 

my  reason  is  only,  because  it  drinketh  too  much  time/ 
which  I  have  dedicated  to  better  purposes." 

Though  not  idle,   still  this  great  delay,  anxiety,   and 
disappointment  thiew  Bacon  into  much  mortification  and 
gloom.      He  began  to  lose  confidence  in  Essex's  ability 
either  as  a  leader  or  to  in  any  way  do  him  good.     For 
once  he  lost  his  patience,  and  seemed  disgusted  with  all 
concerned.     Did   he   begin   to   indulge  a  suspicion    that 
Essex  thought  his  time,  talent,  and  friendehip  more  im- 
portant to  him— Essex— than  if  encumbered  by  public  em- 
ployment ?     He  in  a  letter  to  Essex,  in  1593,  concerning 
his  services  and  while  trying  for  the  attorney's  place,  says  : 
"  My  Lord  :  I  did  almost  conjecture,  by  your  silence 
and  countenance,  a  distaste  in  the  course  I  imparted  to 
your  lordship  touching  mine  own  fortune  ;  the  care  where- 
of in  your  lordship  as  it  is  no  news  to  me,  so,  nevertheless, 
the  main  effects  and  demonstrations  past  are  so  far  from 
dulling  in  me  the  sense  of  any  new,  as,  contrariwise,  every 
new  refresheth  the  memory  of  many  past.     And  for  the 
free  and  loving  advice  your  lordship  hath  given  me,  I  can- 
not correspond  to  the  same  with  greater  duty,  than  by 
assuring  your  lordship,  that  I  will  not  dispose  of  myself 
without  your  allowance,  not  only  because  it  is  the  best 
wisdom  in  any  man  in  his  own  matters,  to  rest  in  the 
wisdom  of  a  friend,  (for  who  can  by  often  looking  in  a 
glass  discern  and  judge  so  well  of  his  own  favour  as  an- 
other with  whom   he  converseth  ?)  but  also   because  my 
affection  to  your  lordship  hath  made  mine  own  content- 
ment inseparable  from  your  satisfaction.     But  notwith- 
standing, 1  know  it  will  be  pleasing  to  your  good  lordship 
that  I  use  my  liberty  of  replying  ;  and  I  do  almost  assure 
myself,  that  your  lordship  will  rest  persuaded  by  the  answer 
of  those  reasons  which  your  lordship  vouchsafed  to  open. 
They  Avere  two,  the  one  that  I  should  include.     ..." 

April,  1593.    The  rest  of  the  letter  is  wanting.     (Works, 
vol.  iii.,  p.  200.)  .       , 

That   he    became   suspicious  in  these  matters  may  be 
seen  by  his  letter  to  his  friend  Faulk  Grevil  the  follow- 
ing year.     He  says  : 
1  In  King  Richard  II.,  Act  v.,  sc.  2,  p.  125,  we  have  : 

"  Is  not  my  teeming  date  druuls  up  with  time  ?" 
Note  throughout  these  wiitings,  and  particularly  iu  the  plays,  the 
emphasis  placed  upon  the  subject  of  time. 


204  LIFE   OF   BACON. 

"  Sir  :  I  understand  of  your  pains  to  have  visited  me, 
for  which  I  thank  you.  My  matter  is  an  endless  question. 
I  assure  you  I  had  said,  '  requiesce  anima  mea  ;'  but  now 
I  am  otherwise  put  to  my  psalter  '  nolite  confidere/  I  dare 
go  no  farther.  Her  majesty  had  by  set  speech  more  than 
once  assured  me  of  her  intention  to  call  me  to  her  ser- 
vice ;  which  I  could  not  understand  but  of  the  place  I  had 
been  named  to.  And  now  whether  '  invidus  homo  hoc 
fecit/  or  whether  my  matter  must  be  an  appendix  to  my 
Lord  of  Essex's  suit,  or  whether  her  majesty,  pretending 
to  prove  my  ability,  meaneth  but  to  take  advantage  of 
some  errors,  which  like  enough,  at  one  time  or  other  I 
may  commit,  or  what  it  is,  but  her  majesty  is  not  ready  to 
dispatch  it.  And  what  though  the  master  of  the  rolls 
and  my  Lord  of  Essex,  and  yourself  and  others  think  my 
case  without  doubt,  yet,  in  the  mean  time  I  have  a  hard 
condition  to  stand  so,  that  whatsoever  service  I  do  to  her 
majesty,  it  shall  be  thought  to  be  but  '  servitium  vis- 
catum,'  lime-twigs  and  fetches  to  place  myself  ;  and  so 
I  shall  have  envy,  not  thanks.  This  is  a  course  to  quench 
all  good  spirits,  and  to  corrupt  every  man's  nature  ; 
which  will,  I  fear,  much  hurt  her  majesty's  service  in  the 
end.  I  have  been  like  a  piece  of  stuff  bespoke  in  the 
shop  :  and  if  her  majesty  will  not  take  me,  it  may  be  the 
selling  by  parcels  will  be  more  gainful.  For  to  be,  as 
I  told  you,  like  a  child  following  a  bird,  which,  when  he 
is  nearest,  flieth  away  and  lighteth  a  little  before,  and 
then  the  child  after  it  again,  and  so  in  infinitum,  I  am 
weary  of  it,  as  also  of  wearying  my  good  friends,  of  whom, 
nevertheless,  I  hope  in  one  course  or  other  gratefully  to 
deserve.  And  so,  not  forgetting  your  business  I  leave  to 
trouble  you  with  this  idle  letter,  being  but  '  justa  et  mod- 
erata  querimonia.'  For,  indeed,  I  do  confess  '  primus 
amor,'  will  not  easily  be  cast  off.  And  thus  again  I  com- 
mend me  to  you."     (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  52.) 

This  letter  reminds  us  of  Sonnet  143,  and  where  he  says 
to  the  queen  : 

"  Lo  !  as  a  careful  housewife  runs  to  catch 
One  of  her  feather'd  creatures  broke  away  ; 
Sets  down  her  babe,  and  makes  all  swift  despatch 
In  pursuit  of  the  thing  she  would  have  stay  ; 
Whilst  her  neglected  child  holds  her  in  chase. 
Cries  to  catch  her,  whose  busy  care  is  bent 
To  follow  that  which  flies  before  her  face, 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  205 

Not  prizing  her  poor  infant's  discontent  ; — 
So  runn'st  thou  after  that  which  flies  from  thee, 
Whilst  I,  thy  babe,  chase  thee  afar  behind  ; 
But,  if  thou  catch  thy  hope,  turn  back  to  me. 
And  phiy  the  mother's  part  ;  kiss  me,  be  kind  : 
So  will  I  pray  that  thou  may'st  have  thy  Will, 
If  thou  turn  back  and  my  loud  crying  still." 

The  word  "  Will,"  in  this  sounet  distinguished  by  a  capi- 
tal, refers,  as  we  shall  claim,  to  the  royal  will,  the  will  of  the 
queen.  See,  please,  Bacon's  letter  to  his  brother  Anthony, 
June  25th,  1594  (Works,  vol.  iii. ,  p.  205),  in  connection  with 
Sonnets  135  and  136.  As  to  these  sonnets  Hudson  says  : 
"  In  this  sonnet  and  the  next  we  print  the  Wills  just  as 
they  stand  in  the  originals.  Of  course  this  is  a  play  on 
the  poet's  name  William." 

As  between  this  interpretation  and  ours  the  reader 
must  judge.  As  the  mentioned  sonnets  have  caused  com- 
ment, we  give  them  place  here,  that  they  may  be  read  in 
the  light  of  the  interpretation  we  have  given  them.  They 
are  as  follows  : 

"  Whoever  hath  her  wish,  thou  hast  thy  Will, 
And  Will  to  boot,  and  Will  in  overplus  ; 
More  than  enough  am  I  that  vex  thee  still,' 
To  thy  sweet  will  making  addition  thus. 
Wilt  thou,  whose  will  is  large  and  spacious. 
Not  once  vouchsafe  to  hide  my  will  in  thine  ? 
Shall  will  in  others  seem  right  gracious, 
And  in  my  will  no  fair  acceptance  shine  ? 
The  sea,  all  water,  yet  receives  rain  still. 
And  in  abundance  addeth  to  his  store  ; 
So  thou,  being  rich  in  Will,  add  to  thy  Will 
One  will  of  mine,  to  make  thy  large  Will  more. 
Let  no  unkind,  no  fair  beseechers  kill  ; 
Think  all  but  one,  and  me  in  that  one  Will." 

"  If  thy  soul  check  thee  that  I  come  so  near. 
Swear  to  thy  blind  soul  that  I  was  thy  Will, 
And  will,  thy  soul  knows,  is  admitted  there  ; 
Thus  far,  for  love,  my  love-suit,  sweet,  fulfil. 
Will  will  fulfil  the  treasure  of  thy  love, 
Ay,  fill  it  full  with  wills,  and  my  will  one. 
In  things  of  great  receipt''  with  ease  we  prove  ; 
Among  a  number  one  is  reckon'd  none. 

»  Note  in  this  sonnet  the  expression  "  I  that  vex  thee  still, "^ and 
in  the  next  sonnet,  "  If  thy  soul  check  thee  that  I  come  so  near." 
'^  The  expression  "  In  things  of  great  receipt"  is  Baconian. 


206  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

Then,  in  the  number  let  me  pass  untold, 
TJiough  in  thy  stores'  account  I  one  must  be  ; 
For  nothing  hold  me,  so  it  please  thee  hold 
That  nothing,  me,  a  something  sweet  to  thee  : 
Make  but  my  name  thy  love,  and  love  that  still. 
And  then  thou  lov'st  me, — for  my  name  is  Will."  ' 

Bacon  had  in  1593,  as  we  have  seen,  been  forbidden  to 
come  within  the  queen's  presence,  and  in  a  letter  dated 
October  14th,  1595,  to  the  Lord  Keeper  Puckering  he  sajs 
of  the  queen  :  "  Or  whether  she  look  towards  me  or  no, 
I  remain  the  same,  not  altered  in  my  intention."  (Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  i.,  p.  369.) 

In  Essex's  interest,  and  for  the  entertainment  of  the 
queen.  Bacon  in  1592  devised  a  brilliant  court  mask,  in 
which  his  articles  entitled  "  Mr.  Bacon  in  Praise  of  Knowl- 
edge" and  "  Mr.  Bacon  in  Praise  of  His  Sovereign"  are 
thought  to  have  formed  speeches.  They  came  from  the 
hands  of  Ilarley  to  Stephens,  and  were  first  published  in 
1734,  after  the  death  of  both  Harley  and  Defoe.  (Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  i.,  pp.  119-134.)  And  see  same  volume,  pp. 
325-343  and  pp.  374-392,  the  good  literature  of  two  like 
masks  devised  by  Bacon  and  performed  before  the  queen, 
one  in  1594  and  the  other  in  1595.  Concerning  the  last 
Mr.  Spedding  says  :  "  Thus  ended  one  of  the  most  elo- 
quent Christmas  entertainments,  probably,  that  was  ever 
presented  to  an  audience  of  statesmen  and  courtiers." 
Courses  were  here  presented  which  Bacon  would  gladly 
have  had  the  queen  pursue.  Note  the  speeches  of  the  six 
counsellors  and  the  Prince  of  Purpoole's  answers  and  con- 
clusions upon  those  speeches. 

Bacon  also  composed  important  letters,  which  Essex 
subscribed  and  used  as  his  own.  (See  Bacon's  Letters,  vol. 
ii.,  pp.  4-26.) 

As  a  kind  of  compensation  for  these  services,  or  for  his 

'  Church  in  his  life  of  Bacon,  p.  57,  says  :  "  He  was  a  compound 
of  the  most  adventurous  and  most  diversified  ambition,  with  a  placid 
and  patient  temper,  such  as  we  commonly  associate  with  moderate 
desires  and  the  love  of  retirement  and  an  easy  life.  To  imagine  and 
dare  anything,  and  never  to  let  go  the  object  of  his  pursuit,  is  one 
side  of  him  ;  on  the  other  he  is  obsequiously  desirous  to  please  and 
fearful  of  giving  offence,  the  humblest  and  most  grateful  and  also 
the  moat  importunate  of  suitors,  ready  to  bide  his  time  with  an  even 
cheerfulness  of  spirit,  which  yet  it  was  not  safe  to  provoke  by  ill 
offices  and  the  wish  to  thwart  him." 


LIFE   OF   BACON.  ^^'^ 

loss  of  time  and  money  while  trying  for  the  mentioned 
positions  property  valu'ed  at  £1800  was  conferred  upon 
him  by  Essex.  Did  the  queen,  unknown  to  Bacon  at  tms 
ime,  have  to  do  with  this?  and  had  she  been  teachmg 
him  a  lesson  more  ruinous  to  his  finances  than  she  had 
supposed  ?    He  at  least  in  Sonnet  145  says  : 

*'  Those  lips  that  Love's  own  hand  did  make, ^ 
Breath'd  forth  the  sound  that  said,     i  hate. 
To  me,  that  languish'd  for  her  sake  ; 
But  when  she  saw  my  woeful  state, 
Straight  in  her  heart  did  mercy  come, 
Chiding  that  tongue,  that  ever  sweet 
Was  us'd  in  giving  gentle  doom  ; 
And  taught  it  thus  anew  to  greet  : 
'  I  hate.'  she  alter'd  with  an  end, 
That  follow 'd  it  as  gentle  day 
Doth  follow  night,  who,  like  a  fiend. 
From  heaven  to  hell  is  flown  away  : 
'  I  hate,'  from  hate  away  she  threw,     ^  _^ 
And  sav'd  my  life,  saying.—'  not  you. 

Bacon  now  demonstrated  that  he  had  merit  to  those 
who  had  of  late  berated  him,  by  putting  forth  early  in 
1597,  when  thirty-six  years  of  age,  his  first  acknowledged 
publication.  This  he  dedicated  to  his  brother  An  nony 
It  consisted  of  a  small  12mo  volume  containing  his  iirst 
ten  essays,  the  Meditationes  Sacrm  and  the  <^olours  oi 
Good  and  Evil.  Another  edition  of  them  was  issued  the 
following  year,  a  third  in  1612,  and  a  fo^^r^h  in  162o,  the 
year  priSr  to  his  death.  New  essays  were  added  in  subse- 
quent editions,  and  those  first  issued  were  somewhat 
amended.  By  some  of  his  friends  they  were  immediately 
translated  into  French,  Latin,  and  Italian. 

In  1596  he  had  completed,  though  not  published  until 
after  his  death,  his  yaluable  paper  in  two  Pa^-ts  i^P^n  the 
elements  and  uses  of  the  common  law,  and  which      as  a 
sheaf  and  cluster  of  fruit"  he  dedicated  to  the  queen 
At  the  end  of  this  year  Essex,  as  we  have  seen,  was  flushed 
with  his  military  reputation  won  at  Cadiz,  and  mcon 
grew  apprehensive  of  his  now  courses  toyrd  the  queen 
He  says  he  had  "  good  cause  to  think  that  the  earl  s  for- 
tunes comprehended  his  own."     And  so  on  Octobei  4th 
1576,  he  wrote  him  a  long  and  friendly,  yet  yery  earnest 
letter,  dissuading  him  from  courting  military  popularity, 
he,   Bacon,   well  knowing  that   such  a  reputation,   now 


208  LIFE    OF   BACON. 

rapidly  rising  with  the  people  towards  Essex,  would  as- 
suredly and  permanently  alienate  the  queen.  These 
courses  were  disturbing  the  waters.  Through  Essex  and 
his  court  masks  Bacon  was  preparing  the  queen  and 
others  for  the  advent  of  his  philosophy.  The  letter  seems 
a  kind  of  warning  to  Essex,  that  he.  Bacon,  must  at  least 
look  out  for  himself  if  the  earl  persisted  in  these  danger- 
ous courses. 

We  here  give  place  to  a  considerable  portion  of  the  let- 
ter, though  it  should  be  read  in  full. 

"  My  Singular  Good  Lord  :  I  will  no  longer  dissever 
part  of  that  which  I  meant  to  have  said  to  your  lordship 
at  Barnhelmes,  from  the  exordium,  which  I  then  made. 
Whereunto  I  will  only  add  this  ;  that  I  humbly  desire 
your  lordship  before  you  give  access  to  my  poor  advice,  to 
look  about,  even  jealously  a  little,  if  you  will,  and  to 
consider  ;  First,  whether  I  have  not  reason  to  think  that 
your  fortune  comprehendeth  mine  :  Next,  whether  I  shift 
my  counsel  and  do  not  'constare  mihi  ;'  for  I  am  per- 
suaded there  are  some  would  give  you  the  same  counsel 
now,  which  I  shall,  but  that  they  should  derogate  from 
that  which  they  have  said  heretofore  :  Thirdly,  whether 
you  have  taken  hurt  at  any  time  by  my  careful  and  de- 
voted counsel.  For  although  I  remember  well  your  lord- 
ship once  told  me  that  you  having  submitted  upon  my 
well-meant  motion  at  Konsuch  (the  place  where  you  re- 
newed a  treaty  with  her  majesty  of  obsequious  kindness'), 
she  had  taken  advantage  of  it  ;  jet  I  suppose  you  do  since 
believe  that  it  did  much  attemper  a  cold  and  malignant 
humour  then  growing  upon  her  majesty  toward  your  lord- 
ship, and  hath  done  you  good  in  consequence.  And  for 
heing  against  it,  now  lately,  that  you  should  not  estrange 
yourself,  though  I  give  place  to  none  in  true  gratulation, 
yet  neither  do  I  repent  me  of  safe  counsel  ;  neither  do  I 
judge  of  the  whole  play  by  the  first  act.^  But  whether 
I  counsel  you  the  best,  or  for  the  best,  duty  bindeth  me  to 
offer  to  you  my  wishes.  1  said  to  your  lordship  last  time  ; 
'  Martha,  Martha,  attendis  ad  plurima,  unum  sufhcit.' 
Win   the  queen  ;   if   this  be  not  the  beginning,  of  any 

'  As  to  Bacon's  sonnet  for  this  occasion,  see  p.  153. 
*  Note  tlie  many  allusions  to  the  stage  even  in  Bacon's  attributed 
writino:s. 


LIFE   OF   BACON.  209 

other  course  I  see  no  end.  And  I  will  not  now  speak  of 
favour  or  affection,  but  of  other  correspondence  and 
agreeableness,  which  whensoever  it  shall  be  conjoined  with 
the  other  of  affection,  I  durst  wager  my  life  (let  them 
make  what  prosopopteus  they  will  of  her  majesty's  nature) 
that  in  you  she  will  come  to  the  question  of  '  quid  fiet 
homini,  quem  rex  vult  honorare  ?  '  But  how  is  it  now  ? 
A  man  of  a  nature  not  to  be  ruled,  that  hath  the  advan- 
tage of  my  affection  and  knoweth  it,  of  an  estate  not 
grounded  to  his  greatness,  of  a  popular  reputation,  of  a 
military  dependence  :  I  demand  whether  there  can  be  a 
more  dangerous  image  than  this  represented  to  any  mon- 
arch living,  much  more  to  a  lady,  and  of  her  majesty's  appre- 
hension ?  And  is  it  not  more  evident  than  demonstration 
itself,  that  whilst  this  impression  continueth  in  her  maj- 
esty's breast,  you  can  find  no  other  condition  than  inven- 
tions to  keep  your  estate  bare  and  low  ;  crossing  and  dis- 
gracing your  actions,  extenuating  and  blasting  of  your 
merit,  carping  with  contempt  at  your  nature  and  fashions  ; 
breeding,  nourishing,  and  fortifying  such  instruments  as 
are  most  factious  against  you,  repulses  and  scorns  of  your 
friends  and  dependents  that  are  true  and  steadfast,  win- 
ning and  inveigling  away  from  you  such  as  are  flexible 
and  wavering,  thrusting  you  into  odious  employments  and 
offices  to  supplant  your  reputation,  abusing  you,  and  feed- 
ing you  with  dalliances'  and  demonstrations,  to  divert  you 
from  descending  into  the  serious  consideration  of  your 
own  case  ;  yea,  and  percase^  venturing  you  in  perilous  and 
desperate  enterprises."     (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  59.) 

As  the  letter  was  distasteful  to  the  earl,  some  coolness 
ensued.  But  in  the  following  year  Bacon,  having  sought 
in  marriage  the  hand  of  the  rich  widow,  Lady  Hatton, 

'  As  to  this  word  "  dalliance,"  oft  used  in  the  plays,  we  from  The 
Tempest,  Act  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  80,  quote  as  follows  : 

"  Pro.  Look,  thou  be  true  :  do  not  give  dalliance 
Too  much  the  rein  ;  the  strongest  oaths  are  straw 
To  the  fire  i'  the  blood  :  Be  more  abstemious, 
Or  else,  good  night  your  vow  !" 

*  The  words  "  percase"  and  "  put  case"— that  is,  to  put  or  state 
a  case,  are  found  in  The  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  in  the  A.  D.  B. 
Mask,  and  in  many  places  in  the  Defoe  literature.  Bacon  says  : 
"  An  example  will  make  my  meaning  attained,  and  yet  percase 
make  it  thought  that  they  attain  it  not."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iii., 
p.  286.) 


210  LIFE   OF   BACON. 

Essex  again  proffered  aid.  The  matter  ended  by  her 
becoming  the  wife  of  his  great  rival,  Sir  Edward  Coke. 

The  year  1598  found  Bacon's  financial  matter  much 
disordered,  and  on  one  occasion,  while  engaged  in  impor- 
tant state  matters,  he  was  arrested  for  debt,  whereupon  he 
wrote  thus  to  the  lord  keeper  : 

"  It  May  Please  Youk  Lordship, — I  am  to  make  hum- 
ble complaint  to  your  lordship  of  some  hard  dealing  offered 
me  by  one  Sympson,  a  goldsmith,  a  man  noted  much,  as 
I  have  heard,  for  extremities  and  stoutness  upon  his 
purse  ;  but  yet  I  could  scarcely  have  imagined  he  would 
have  dealt  either  so  dishonestly  tovvards  me,  or  so  con- 
temptuously towards  her  majesty's  service.  For  this  Lom- 
bard (pardon  me,  I  most  humbly  pray  your  lordship,  if, 
being  admonished  by  the  street  he  dwells  in,  I  give  him 
that  name)  having  me  in  bond  for  300  pounds  principle, 
and  I  having  the  last  term  confessed  the  action,  and  by 
his  full  and  direct  consent  respited  the  satisfaction  till 
the  beginning  of  this  term  to  come,  without  ever  giving 
me  warning,  either  by  letter  or  message,  served  an  execu- 
tion upon  me,  having  trained  me  at  such  time  as  I  came 
from  the  Tower,  where  Mr.  Waad  can  witness,  we  attended 
a  service  of  no  mean  importance  ;  neither  would  he  so 
much  as  vouchsafe  to  come  and  speak  with  me  to  take 
any  order  in  it,  though  I  sent  for  him  divers  times,  and 
his  house  was  Just  by  ;  handling  it  as  upon  a  despite,' 
being  a  man  I  never  provoked  with  a  cross  word,  no,  nor 
with  any  delays.  lie  would  have  urged  it  to  have  had  me 
in  prison  ;  which  he  had  done,  had  not  Sheriff  More,  to 
whom  I  sent,  gently  recommended  me  to  a  handsome 
house  in  Coleman  Street,  where  I  am.  Now  because  he 
will  not  treat  with  me,  I  am  enforced  humbly  to  desire 
your  lordship  to  send  for  him  according  to  your  place,  to 
bring  him  to  some  reason  ;  and  this  forthwith,  because 
I  continue  here  to  my  further  discredit  and  inconvenience, 
and  the  trouble  of  the  gentleman  with  whom  I  am.  I 
have  a  hundred  pounds  lying  by  me,  which  he  may  have, 
and  the  rest  upon  some  reasonable  time  and  security,  or, 
if  need  be,  the  whole  ;  but  with  my  more  trouble.    As  for 

*  In  Henry  the  Fifth,  Act  iii.,  sc.  5,  we  have  : 

' '  Is  not  this  climate  foggy,  raw,  and  dull  ? 
On  whom,  as  in  despite,  the  sun  looks  pale. 
Killing  their  fruit  with  frowns  ?" 


LIFE   OF    BACON.  211 

the  contempt  he  hath  offered,  in  regard  her  majesty's  ser- 
vice to  my  understanding,  carrieth  a  privilege  e^mdo  et 
redeundo  in  meaner  causes,  much  more  in  matters  of  this 
nature  especially  in  persons  known  to  be  qualified  with 
that  place  and  employment,  which  though  unworthy, 
I  am  vouchsafed,  I  enforce  nothing,  thinking  I  have  done 
my  part  when  I  have  made  it  known,  and  so  leave  it  to 
your  lordship's  honorable  consideration.  And  so  with 
signification  of  my  humble  duty,  etc."  (Works,  vol.  iii., 
p.  91.) 

Like  letters  were  written  to  Essex  and  to  Robert  Cecil, 
now  secretary  of  State.  The  Merchant  of  Venice  is  said 
to  have  been  written  this  year.'  In  August  of  this  year 
Lord  Burghley  died,  and  from  this  time  Bacon's  advance- 
ment became  more  rapid. 

In  1599  the  celebrated  case  of  Perpetuities,  though  pre- 
viously argued  at  the  bar  of  the  King's  Bench,  was,  by 
reason  of  difficulties  and  of  its  great  importance,  ordered 
to  be  reargued  in  the  Exchequer  Chamber  before  all  of 
the  Judges  of  England,  "and  after  an  argument  by  Coke, 
the  Attorney  General,  another  was  directed,  and  Bacon 
was  chosen  to  perform  this  duty,  which  he  did  in  so  able 
a  manner  as  to  render  it  one  of  his  notable  acts.  It  was 
afterward  incorporated  with  his  reading  upon  the  Statute  of 
Uses,  and  dedicated  by  him  to  the  Society  of  Gray's  Inn. 

Early  in  this  year  troubles  broke  out  in  Ireland,  in 
connection  with  which  Essex's  treasons  grew,  as  seen  in 
earlier  pages.  His  arrogant  and  supremely  senseless 
course  following  the  queen's  refusal  to  renew  his  monopoly 
of  sweet  wine  worked  doubtless  some  revulsion  in  Bacon's 
feelings  toward  him,  and  which  had  been  but  drooping 
since  1596.  In  his  apology  concerning  the  Earl  of  Essex, 
Bacon  says  :  "  But  for  any  action  of  mine  towards  him, 
there  is  nothing  that  passed  me  in  my  lifetime  that  cometh 
to  my  remembrance  with  more  clearness  and  less  check  of 
conscience  ;  for  it  will  appear  to  your  Lordship  that  I 
was  not  only  not  opposed  to  my  Lord  of  Essex,  but  that 
I  did  occupy  the  utmost  of  my  wits,  and  adventure  my 
fortune  with  the  Queen  to  have  reintegrated  his,  and  so 
continued  faithfully  and  industriously  till  his  last  fatal 

'  This  play  will  be  found  to  illustrate  the  thought  expressed  in 
the  following  Promus  note.  Promus,  1002.  (The  extreme  of  jus- 
tice [is  often]  the  extreme  of  injury.) 


212  LIFE   OF   BACON. 

impatience  (for  so  I  will  call  it),  after  which  day  there 
was  no  time  to  work  for  him  ;  thou.^h  the  same  my  affec- 
tion, when  it  could  not  work  on  the  subject  proper,  went 
to  the  next,  with  no  ill  effect  towards  some  others,  who 
I  think  do  rather  not  know  it  than  not  acknowledge  it. 
And  this  I  will  assure  your  lordship,  I  will  leave  nothing 
untold  that  is  truth,  for  any  enemy  that  I  have  to  add  ; 
and  on  the  other  side,  I  must  reserve  much  which  makes 
for  me,  upon  many  respects  of  duty,  which  I  esteem  above 
my  credit  :  and  what  I  have  here  set  down  to  your  Lord- 
ship, I  protest,  as  I  hope  to  have  any  part  in  God's  favour, 
is  true."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iii.,  p.  142.) 

Even  Macaulay,  who  so  sharply  censures  him  as  to 
Essex,  says  :  "  Nothing  in  the  political  conduct  of  Essex 
entitles  him  to  esteem  ;  and  the  pity  with  which  we  regard 
his  early  and  terrible  end  is  diminished  by  the  considera- 
tion that  he  put  to  hazard  the  lives  and  fortunes  of  his 
most  attached  friends,  and  endeavored  to  throw  the  whole 
country  into  confusion  for  objects  purely  personal." 

Concerning  Essex  Mr.  Spedding  says  :  "  The  history 
of  his  relation  with  the  court  is  a  history  of  quarrels  and 
reconciliations,  provocations  given  and  forgiven,  the  liber- 
ties of  a  spoiled  child  with  a  mother,  whose  affection 
though  mortified  and  irritated  cannot  afford  to  sacrifice 
him  ;  each  victory  emboldening  him  to  repeat  the  same 
experiment,  without  considering  that  patience  has  its 
limits,  and  that  every  successive  strain  put  upon  the  affec- 
tion leaves  it  less  able  to  endure  another.  It  was  a  point 
in  which  Bacon  had  always  thought  Essex  in  the  wrong, 
and  told  him  what  would  come  of  it."  (Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  i.,  p.  373.) 

At  about  this  time  it  was  that  Queen  Elizabeth  began 
more  definite  steps  in  the  direction  of  colonization,  and 
on  the  last  day  of  1600  she  chartered  a  body  of  adven- 
turers styled  "  The  Governor  and  Company  of  Merchants 
of  London  trading  to  the  East  Indies."  For  revenue, 
for  expanding  the  powers  of  Britain,  and  for  extending 
the  Keformed  faith  Bacon  ever  urged  colonization.  And 
from  certain  data  we  have  an  impression  that  he  was 
personally  concerned  in  some  of  the  voyages  of  Drake  and 
others.  The  privileges  of  this  company  were  invaded 
early  in  the  next  reign  by  James.  Later,  however,  he 
renewed  their  charter,  and  several  voyages  were  attended 


LIFE   OF   BACOlSr.  213 

with  large  profits  ;  and  in  1612  the  Englishman  planted 
his  foot  in  India,  having  obtained  permission  from  the 
Great  Mogul  to  establish  a  factory  at  Surat.  (See  Knight's 
History  of  England,  vol.  iii.,  pp.  276-285.) 

Hume  says  :  "  What  chiefly  renders  the  reign  of  James 
memorable  is  the  commencement  of  the  English  colonies 
in  America — colonies  established  on  the  noblest  footing 
that  has  been  known  in  any  age  or  nation."  (Hume,  vol. 
iv.,  p.  108.)  And  we  shall  claim  that  the  moulding  of 
them  was  due  chiefly  to  Lord  Bacon." 

The  next  year,  1601,  Bacon's  brother  Anthony  died,  and 
in  The  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  vol.  ii-,  p.  53,  we  have  : 

"  My  brother's  death  my  study  hath  undone  ; 
Woe's  me  !  alas  !  my  brother  he  is  gone  !" 

Daring  the  balance  of  this  reign,  which  ended  with 
Elizabeth's  death,  March  24th,  1603,  Bacon's  time  seems  to 
have  been  devoted  chiefly  to  literary  work. 

Upon  the  now  accession  of  the  Scotch  King  James,  and 
who  desired  to  be  thought  somewhat  a  patron  of  learning, 
Bacon's  hopes  were  quickened  even  to  anticipation  of  aid 
in  putting  forth  his  growing  though  as  yet  unpublished 
philosophy.  He  says  he  thought  the  "  canvassing  world  " 
had  gone  and  the  "  deserving  world  "  had  come. 

James  arrived  in  England  May  7th,  1603,  and  on  the 
23d,  the  day  of  his  coronation.  Bacon,  with  three  hundred 
others,  Lord  Coke  included,  received  the  now  all  too 
lavish,  indiscriminate,  and  hence  but  little  valued  honor 
of  knighthood.  Bacon  at  once  sought,  and  in  a  marked 
way,  to  bring  himself  to  the  king's  notice.  Before  the 
meeting  of  his  first  Parliament  he  had  submitted  for  his 
consideration  two  pamphlets,  one  concerning  the  Church, 
entitled  "  Considerations  Touching  the  Better  Pacification 
of  the  Church  of  England,"  and  the  other  concerning  the 
union  of  the  two  kingdoms,  entitled  "  A  Discourse  Touch- 
ing the  Happy  Union  of  England  and  Scotland." 

Being  ever  a  verb  in  the  present  tense,  Bacon  was  pre- 
pared for  the  hour.  He  fully  realized  that  lucid,  ready- 
made  thoughts  often  stay  and  fix  the  mind  to  courses  that 
of  itself  it  would  never  have  reached.     This  was  one  of 

'  It  was  out  of  the  charters  of  the  old  trading  companies  that  tlie 
colonial  constitutions  grew,  and  they  in  turn  gave  form  to  our 
present  central  government. 


214  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

his  methods.  This  was  providence.  By  this  means  he 
often  found  direction  out.  To  our  thiniiing  lie  was  now 
led  into  two  unwise  steps.  First,  he  wrote  to  Southamp- 
ton, who  since  the  trial  of  Essex  and  until  the  reign 
of  James  had  remained  in  prison.  The  letter,  though 
short,  seeks  to  show  that  he  had  entertained  no  unfriendli- 
ness, and  that  he  might  now  be  to  him  what  he  dare  not 
before,  for  fear  of  the  queen.  (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  38.) 
Second,  he  prepared  a  paper  entitled  "  Sir  Francis  Bacon, 
His  Apology,  in  Certain  Imputations  Concerning  the  Late 
Earl  of  Essex,"  and  addressed  to  Lord  Mountjoy,  whom 
the  queen  had  intended  to  command  what  proved  to  be 
the  unfortunate  Essex  expedition  into  Ireland.  Though 
this  paper  shows  loyalty  to  the  earl,  and  that  what  was 
done  in  excusing  the  queen's  conduct  toward  him  was  in 
virtue  of  her  express  commands,  it  still  drew  comment 
and  kindled  afresh  the  animo.-ities  not  only  of  the  earl's, 
but  of  Southampton's  friends. 

James's  first  Parliament  convened  March  19th,  1604. 
In  an  address  on  the  22d  he  recommended  the  union  of 
the  two  kingdoms,  the  termination  of  religious  discon- 
tents, and  an  improvement  in  the  laws.  Bacon  had  prior  to 
this  submitted  to  the  king,  a  proclamation  recommending 
attention  to  the  sufferings  of  unhappy  Ireland,  the  free- 
dom of  trade,  and  the  suppression  of  briberies  and  corrup- 
tions. And  thus  at  the  very  opening  of  this  reign  did  he 
recommend  political  reform,  as  he  had  early  and  ever 
recommended  legal  reform.  He  also  sought  reform  from 
grave  superstitions,  as  well  as  from  church  differences, 
and  concerning  which  even  at  this  period  Knight  in  his 
History  of  England,  vol.  iii.,  p.  248,  says  :  "  We  must 
not  be  too  ready  to  hold  the  legislators  of  this  time  as 
peculiarly  ignorant  in  passing  a  law  to  declare  witchcraft 
felony  without  benefit  of  clergy.  The  superstition  was 
productive  of  enormous  cruelties  ;  but  it  had  its  earnest 
supporters,  and  amongst  others,  the  king  himself.  The 
popular  belief  run  wholly  in  that  direction."  Hence,  in 
the  Defoe  "  History  of  the  Devil  ;"  "  History  of  xMagic  ;" 
*'  History  of  Apparitions  Sacred  and  Profane  ;"  "  History 
of  Duncan  Campbell,"  and  replete  with  exhaustive  re- 
search into  ancient  records,  will  appear  Bacon's  philo- 
sophic weeding  of  these  subjects.  And  thus  again  are  we 
reminded  of  our  Head-light,  ' '  For  1  have  taken  all  knowl- 


LIFE   OF   BACOK. 


215 


edge  to  be  my  providence."  See,  please,  at  the  end  of  the 
De  Augmentis  and  at  the  end  of  the  Novum  Organnm  the 
subjects  upon  Which  Bacon  recommends  the  writing  of 

histories.  _    ,        ,,         •  •,    j. 

While  during  the  reign  of  the  Tudors  the  spirit  ot  re- 
ligious liberty  had  been  signally  aroused,  the  spirit  of 
political  freedom  had  slept  until  near  the  close  of  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth.  In  other  words,  religious  contentions 
and  foreign  foes  had  quite  absorbed  men's  thoughts.  Fol- 
lowing the  defeat  of  the  Armada,  in  1588,  these  fears  were 
fading,  and  greater  freedom  arose  in  both  Church  and 
State,  and  men  began  to  think  more  upon  individual 
rights,  upon  adventure  and  discovery,  upon  foreign  trade, 
and  upon  general  financial  affairs.  In  fact,  the  desire  for 
a  less  arbitrary  government  was  already  taking  shape  in 
the  English  mind. 

Failing  to  recognize  the  signs  of  the  times,  this  was  no 
Tery  opportune  moment  for  the  Scotch  king,  the  son  of 
the  Catholic  mother,  the  executed  Mary  Queen  of  Scots, 
who  was  big  in  the  belief  of  the  divine  right  of  kings,  and, 
unmindful  of  values,  was  exceedingly  lavish  m  the  expen- 
diture of  monev.  He  had  been  born,  bred,  and  from  in- 
fancy had  ruled  bevond  England's  borders.  The  bold 
methods  of  Elizabeth  were  attempted  by  James,  and  he 
found  himself  at  once  questioned  in  prerogative.  Ihe 
attitude  of  the  Commons  concerning  the  union  of  the  two 
kingdoms,  as  well  as  to  general  religious  affairs,  irritated 
him.  While  the  Puritans  did  not,  as  at  the  beginning  ot 
Elizabeth's  reign,  ask  the  substitution  of  the  Presbyterian 
discipline  for  the  Episcopal  government,  they  still  insisted 
upon  omitting  the  usage  of  certain  ceremonies.  This 
Bacon  thought  wise  to  grant,  but  James  thought  other- 
wise, and  he  attempted  to  carry  out  the  doctrine  of  con- 
formity even  more  strictly  than  had  been  done  in  the  pre- 
vious reign. 

The  House  of  Commons  had  no  sooner  met  than  prayers 
for  the  correction  of  certain  abuses  from  monopolies,  spring- 
ing up  in  the  latter  half  of  the  former  reign,  commenced. 
A  select  committee,  with  Bacon  as  its  chairman,  was  ap- 
pointed, and  on  the  26th  he  made  his  report  for  the  con- 
sideration of  the  House.  This  early  manifested  discontent 
continued  during  James'  entire  reign,  and  brought  to  the 
block  the  head  of  his  son  Charles  in  the  next. 


216  LIFE   OF   BACON". 

Knight,  in  his  History  of  England,  vol.  iii.,  p.  251,  of 
James  says  :  "  His  figure  was  ungainly  ;  his  habits  were 
slovenly  ;  he  was  by  nature  a  coward.  Not  deficient  in  a 
certain  talent  which  he  rarely  put  to  a  right  use — '  the 
wisest  fool  in  Christendom,' — he  had  no  sense  of  that 
public  responsibility  which  attended  his  high  office.  He 
was  a  king  for  himself  alone." 

During  this  conflict  in  the  House  Bacon's  exertions  are 
said  to  have  been  unceasing,  having  sat  upon  twenty-nine 
committees  and  spoken  in  every  debate.  He  was  one  of 
the  commissioners  to  treat  for  the  union  of  the  two  king- 
doms, and  to  his  knowledge  of  the  subject  was  due  the 
admirable  manner  in  which  the  duties  of  that  body  were 
performed.  It  consisted  of  forty-four  English  and  thirty- 
one  Scotch  members,  who  had  power  from  the  Parliament 
to  deliberate  concerning  terms  of  union,  but  without 
power  of  making  advances  toward  establishing  it.  The 
more  the  king  favored  the  movement,  the  more  backward 
seemed  the  Parliament  in  its  concurrence.  Though  united 
now  in  their  crowns,  the  kingdoms  were  not  really  so  in 
tiieir  laws  until  the  Defoe  period,  a  hundred  years  later, 
by  Anne's  Act  of  Union,  March  6th,  1707,  until  which 
event  each  kingdom  maintained  its  own  legislative  power. 

The  king  soon  perceived  Bacon's  superior  talent,  and 
so  on  August  25th,  1604,  constituted  him  by  patent  one 
of  his  counsel  learned  in  the  law.  Though  now  politically 
employed,  he  was  still  absorbed  in  philosophic  research, 
and  during  the  recess  of  Parliament  he  sent  his  friend, 
Sir  Henry  Savill,  Provost  of  the  College  of  Eaton,  his 
tract  entitled  "  Helps  to  the  Intellectual  Powers."  Tow- 
ard the  close  of  this  year  he,  in  a  letter  to  the  Lord  Chan- 
cellor, expressed  an  inclination,  at  this  juncture  of  the 
two  kingdoms,  to  write  a  history  of  Great  Britain.  He 
says  :  "  Neither  could  I  contain  myself  here  (as  it  is  easier 
for  a  man  to  multiply,  than  to  stay  a  wish),  but  calling  to 
remembrance  the  unworthiness  of  the  History  of  England, 
in  the  main  continuance  thereof,  and  the  partiality  and 
obliquity  of  that  of  Scotland,  in  the  latest  and  largest 
author  that  I  have  seen  ;  I  conceived  it  would  be  an 
honour  for  his  majesty,  and  a  work  very  memorable,  if 
this  island  of  Great  Britain,  as  it  is  now  joined  in  mon- 
archy for  the  ages  to  come,  so  it  were  joined  in  history  for 
the  times  past ;  and  that  one  just  and  complete  history 


LIFE    OF    BACON".  217 

were  compiled  of  both  nations.  And  if  any  man  think  it 
may  refresh  the  memory  of  former  discord,  he  may  satisfy 
himself  with  the  verse,  '  Olim  hsec  meminisse  juvabit.' 
For  the  case  being  now  altered,  it  is  matter  of  comfort 
and  gratulation,  to  remember  former  troubles."  (Works, 
vol.  iii.,  p.  23.)  ^  ^    ,. 

Shortly  before  the  meeting  of  James'  second  Parliament 
and  in  October,  1605,  first  appeared  Bacon's  child,  "  The 
Advancement  of  Learning,"  now  taught  to  go,  and  which 
he  dedicated  to  the  king.  He  had  indeed  indulged  the 
hope  of  interesting  him  in  his  efforts  and  of  now  abandon- 
ing civil  affairs.  The  king's  loves,  however,  lay  but  feebly 
in  this  direction. 

The  work  professes  to  be  a  general  survey  of  the  then 
existing  state  of  knowledge  under  the  figure  of  an  intel- 
lectual globe,  whereon  is  mapped  forth  the  desert  portions 
and  the  portions  but  partially  discovered  or  explored,  and 
which  he  presents  under  the  comprehensive  heads  of 

1.  History  relating  to  the  memory. 

2.  Poetry  relating  to  the  imagination. 

3.  Philosophy  relating  to  the  reason. 

The  way  to  the  examination  of  these  subjects  is  paved 
or  prepared  in  the  first  book  by  an  examination  of  the 
objections  to  learning  ;  of  contentious  learning  ;  of  fantas- 
tical learning  ;  of  peccant  humors  of  learning,  together  with 
the  advantages  of  learning.  In  order  to  attract  the  king's 
eye,  the  work  had  been  somewhat  immaturely  put  forth, 
and  hence  it  was  later  reproduced  or  rewritten  under  the 
title  of  the  De  Augmeutis,  in  which  form  it  was  designed 
by  Bacon  to  have  place  as  the  first  part  of  the  Great  Instau- 
ration. 

The  work  was  but  the  coasting  of  the  intellectual  globe 
as  then  existing.  The  new  intellectual  world  was  to  exist 
when  the  subjects  mentioned  at  the  close  of  the  work  itself 
were  elaborated.  And  this  was  to  be  the  golden  world, 
or,  as  stated  in  the  play  of  The  Tempest,  "  The  brave  new 
world." 

In  November,  1605,  James'  second  Parliament  con- 
vened. Even  thus  early  in  his  reign  his  Secretary  of 
State,  Robert  Cecil,  now  Earl  of  Salisbury,  and  whom  the 
king  called  his  little  "  beagle,"  was  puzzling  his  brain 
over  the  ever-difficult  problem  during  this  reign  of  pro- 
viding money  for  this  extravagant  king  and  his  rapacious 


218  LIFE   OF   BACON". 

followers,  now  absent  upon  a  hunting  excursion  at  Koyton. 
Thus  stood  matters  when  the  knowledge  of  the  great  Gun- 
powder Plot  was  sprung  upon  the  country.  This  noted 
conspiracy  against  the  life  of  the  king  and  Parliament, 
and  which  had  been  in  progress  since  the  spring  and  sum- 
mer of  1604,  absorbed  chiefly  the  attention  of  this  Parlia- 
ment, and  for  a  time  warmer  feelings  seem  to  have  been 
entertained  toward  the  king.  It  was  claimed  that  James 
had  entered  into  engagements  with  the  Catholic  party  to 
tolerate  their  religion  as  soon  as  he  mounted  the  English 
throne.  And  certain  it  is  that  covertly  he  had  a  bias  in 
favor  of  Rome.  Already  had  he  manifested  undue  haste 
in  concluding  a  peace  with  Spain,  that  for  years  had  so 
vigorously  sought  England's  overthrow.  Following  this 
event,  he  gave  trust  and  preferment  almost  indiscriminately 
to  his  Catholic  and  Protestant  subjects,  and  he  greatly 
abated  the  rigor  of  the  laws  enacted  against  the  ancient 
Church.  The  duplicity  of  his  nature  became  more  ap- 
parent, however,  toward  the  close  of  his  reign  and  follow- 
ing the  year  1G16.  The  unfinished  business  of  the  former 
session  still  occupied  Bacon's  thoughts,  and  the  then  out- 
look drew  him  from  his  purpose  of  devoting  his  time  only 
to  philosophy.  He  saw  that  the  union  of  these  kingdoms 
was  likely  to  breed  grave  changes  and  that  his  country  at 
this  Juncture  needed  his  services. 

In  May,  1606,  he,  at  the  age  of  forty-six,  was  married 
to  Miss  Alice  Barnham.  Of  his  married  life  very  little  is 
known.  From  his  Essay  on  Marriage  it  will  appear  that 
he  did  not  look  very  favorably  upon  the  relation  unless 
there  be  true  adaptation.  And  the  views  expressed  in  all  of 
these  writings  will  be  found  to  be  one  upon  this  subject' 
They  will  be  found  spoken  of  throughout  either  as  "  gentle- 
women" or  "  wenches."     Read  attentively  Bacon's  Essay 


'  Promus,  1085.  ("  Woman' s  a  various  and  a  cliangeful  thing." — 
Dryden.)  Promus,  1086.  ("  He  knew  the  stormy  souls  of  woman- 
kind."— Dryden.)  Promus,  536.  There  is  no  trusting  a  woman  nor 
a  tap.  Promus,  492.  Bachelors'  wives  and  maids'  children  are  well 
taught.     Promus,  575.     It  is  the  cat's  nature  and  the  wench's  fault. 

"  If  the  cat  will  after  kind 
So,  be  sure,  will  Rosalind." 

— As  You  Like  It,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  197. 
Please  see  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  pp.  85-89. 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  ^1^ 


on  Marriage  in  connection  with  the  Anatomy  of  Melan- 
choly, vol.  ii.,  pp.  379-89  and  pp.  413-32,  and  see  Roxana, 
pp   114,  115,  233.     In  the  Anatomy,  p.  382,  we  have  : 

"What  shall   I   say   to   him    that  marries   again   and 
a<^ain?     '  Stnlta  maritali   qui   porrigit  ora  capistro.      i 
pTty  him  not;  for  the  first  time  he  may  do  as  he  may, 
bear  it  out  sometimes  by  the  head  and  shoulders,  and  let 
his  next  neighbor  ride,  or  else  run  away,  or  as  that  byra- 
cusian,  in  a  tempest,  when  all  ponderous  things  were  to 
be  exonerated  out  of  the  ship,  quia  maximum  pondus  erat 
flinff  his  wife  into  the  sea.     But  this  I  confess  is  comically 
spoken,   and  so  I  pray  yon  take  it.     In  sober  sadness 
marriage  is  a  bondage,  a  thraldom,  a  yoke,  a  hindrance  to 
all  <^ood  enterprises  ;  he  liatli  married  a  wife,  and  cannot 
come;  a  stop  to  all  preferments  ;  a  rock  on  which  many 
are  saved,  many  impinge  and  are  cast  away  :  not  that  tne 
thinff  is  evil  in  itself,  or  troublesome,  but  full  ot  all  con- 
tentment and  happiness  ;  one  of  the  three  things  which 
pleases  God,  when  a  man  and  his  wife  agree  together  ;  an 
honorable  and  happy  state  ;  who  knows  it  not  r*     ^ 

James  at  his  accession  confirmed  generally  "^Pj^ce 
those  who  had  held  positions  under  Elizabeth.  i>"\aur- 
ing  the  summer  of  this  year  Salisbury's  friend,  Hobart 
was  made  Attorney-General  in  place  of  Coke  now  appointed 
to  the  Chief  Justiceship  of  the  Common  Pleas,  and  Bacon 
hoped  that  Solicitor  Doderidge  might  be  otherwise  provided 
for,  in  order  that  he  might  now  be  Solicitor ;  but  Salis- 
bury, though  professing  friendship,  is  still  thought  to  have 
stood  in  his  way  ;  and  when  Parliament  met  m  November, 
1606,  Bacon  returned  to  his  work  upon  questions  touching 
the  union— such  as  "  Ante-nati"  and  "  Post-nati  ;  or,  the 
position  of  Scotchmen  born  before  and  since  James  acces- 
sion :  the  question  of  "  Naturalization  ;"  and  the  question 
of  "  Union  of  Laws."  To  this  session  the  commissioriers 
of  the  union  first  presented  their  work.  See  vol.  in., 
ch.  8,  Bacon's  Letters.  . 

Hume  says  :  "  There  remain  two  excellent  speeches  m 
favour  of  the  union,  which  it  would  not  be  improper  to 
compare  together— that  of  the  king  and  that  of  Sir  brancis 
Bacon.  Those  who  affect  in  everything  such  an  ex- 
treme contempt  for  James  will  be  surprised  to  fand  that 
his  discourse,  both  for  good  reasoning  and  eloquent  com- 
position, approaches  very  near  that  of  a  man  who  was  un- 


220  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

doubtedly  at  that  time  one  of   the  greatest  geniuses  in 
Europe,"     (Hume,  vol.  iii.,  p.  611.) 

It  is  well  known  that  Bacon  assisted  James,  the  Cecils, 
and  others  in  such  papers.  Mr.  Spedding  says  that  even 
in  reporting  the  speeches  of  others  he  was  accustomed  to 
give  the  thought  better  form.  In  this  way  he  ever  made 
his  own  style  more  difficult  to  detect.  The  work  of  the 
commission  ended  merely  in  the  abolition  of  hostile  laws 
between  the  two  kingdoms. 

In  January  of  this  year  Bacon  presented  the  king  with 
a  New  Year's  gift,  consisting  of  a  discourse  touching  the 
plantation  of  Ireland,  and  which  he  styles  as  a  second 
brother  to  the  one  entitled  the  "  Union  of  England  and 
Scotland."  This  year  James  granted  patents  to  two  cor- 
porations to  colonize  that  part  of  America  lying  between 
the  34th  and  45th  degrees  of  north  latitude,  the  north 
half  being  granted  to  the  Plymouth,  and  the  south  half 
to  the  London  Company  ;  and  which  company  in  the  fol- 
lowing year  planted  in  Virginia  the  first  permanent  Eng- 
lish settlement  in  America,  and  which  in  honor  of  the 
king  was  called  Jamestown. 

In  June  of  the  following  year,  1607,  the  long-sought 
position  of  Solicitor-General  was  reached  by  Bacon  at  the 
age  of  forty- seven  years,  as  mentioned  in  earlier  pages, 
and  with  an  annual  salary  of  about  £1000.  To  this  was 
added  £2000  from  the  reversion  of  the  Clerkship  of  the 
Star  Chamber,  secured  to  him  in  1589,  but  not  until  now 
falling  into  possession.  For  some  time  Bacon's  financial 
prospects  had  been  mending  ;  and  though  by  no  means  free 
from  debt,  he  is  said  now  to  have  had  a  large  income.  It 
may  also  be  said,  though  unfortunate  for  him,  that  he 
had  now  secured  political  footing  in  the  government  of 
James.  Whatever  may  be  thought  of  Bacon's  political 
views,  they  were  centred  deep  in  what  he  regarded  as 
biblical  truth.  Kings,  though  possessing  errors  of  private 
life,  were  to  him  but  kinds  of  instruments  in  the  hand  of 
Divine  Providence.  Their  foibles  should  be  shielded  from 
the  public  gaze,  as  being  the  chief  forms,  figures,  or  pat- 
terns on  earth  to  men.  And  so  in  the  Anatomy  of  Melan- 
choly, vol.  i.,  p.  71,  we  have  : 

"  For  princes  are  the  glass,  the  scliool,  the  book, 
Where  subjects'  eyes  do  learn,  do  read,  do  look." 


LIFE    OF    BACON".  221 

His  views  in  this  will  somewhat  clearly  appear  in  his 
carefully  prepared  paper  of  advice  to  George  Villiers, 
afterward  Duke  of  Buckingham,  upon  his  becoming  the 
king's  favorite  a  few  years  later,  and  from  which  we  quote 
as  follows  : 

"You  know,  I  am  no  courtier,  nor  versed  in  state 
affairs  :  my  life  hitherto  hath  rather  been  contemplative 
than  active  ;  I  have  rather  studied  books  than  men  ;  I 
can  but  guess  at  the  most,  at  those  things  in  which  you 
desire  to  be  advised  ;  nevertheless,  to  show  my  obedience, 
though  with  the  hazard  of  my  discretion,  I  shall  yield 
unto  you. 

"  Sir,  in  the  first  place,  I  shall  be  bold  to  put  you  in 
mind  of  the  present  condition  you  are  in.  You  are  not 
only  a  courtier,  but  a  bed-chamber  man,  and  so  are  in  the 
eye  and  ear  of  your  master  ;  but  you  are  also  a  favorite  ; 
the  favorite  of  the  time,  and  so  are  in  the  bosom  also. 
The  world  hath  so  voted  you,  and  doth  so  esteem  of  you  ; 
for  kings  and  great  princes,  even  the  wisest  of  them,  have 
had  their  friends,  their  favorites,  their  privadoes,  in  all 
ages  ;  for  they  have  their  affections  as  well  as  other  men. 
Of  these  they  make  several  uses  ;  sometimes  to  communi- 
cate and  debate  their  thoughts  with  them,  and  to  ripen 
their  judgments  thereby  ;  and  sometimes  to  ease'  their 
cares  by  imparting  them  ;  and  sometimes  to  interpose 
them  between  themselves  and  the  envy  or  malice  of  their 
people  ;  for  kings  cannot  err  ;  that  must  be  discharged 
upon  the  shoulders  of  their  ministers  ;  and  they  who  are 
nearest  unto  them  must  be  content  to  bear  the  greatest 
load."     (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  375.) 

In  entering  upon  his  new  duties  as  Solicitor,  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1608,  he  takes  soundings,  so  to  speak,  as  to  his 
health,  life  aims,  new  methods  to  be  pursued,  etc.,  de- 
voting an  entire  week  in  preparing  notes  upon  the  subject. 
Among  these  we  find  "  Eestor.  the  church  to  y*^  trew  limits 
of  Authority  since  H.  8ths  confusion."  ^     They  will  be 

'  Note  throughout  this  use  of  the  word  "  ease,"  and  particularly 
in  The  Pilg-rim's  Progress. 

-  There  is  a  distinctiveness  in  the  use  throughout  of  this  word 
"  confusion"  tliat  renders  it  a  kind  of  earmark.  lu  Hamlet,  Act  iii., 
sc.  1,  p.  273,  we  have  : 

"  King.  And  can  you,  by  no  drift  of  conference, 
Get  from  him  why  he  puts  on  this  confusion  ; 


222  LIFE   OF   BACOif. 

found  in  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iv.,  pp.  18-96.     Concern- 
ing them,  Church,  in  his  Life  of  Bacon,  p.  79,  says  : 

"  The  '  greatness  of  Britain  '  was  one  of  his  favorite 
subjects  of  meditation.  He  puts  down  in  his  notes  the 
outline  of  what  should  be  aimed  at  to  secure  and  increase 
it ;  it  is  to  make  the  various  forces  of  the  great  and  grow- 
ing empire  work  together  in  harmonious  order  without 
waste,  without  jealousy,  without  encroachment  and  col- 
lision ;  to  unite  not  only  the  interests  but  the  sympathies 
and  aims  of  the  Crown  with  those  of  the  people  and  Parlia- 
ment ;  and  so  to  make  Britain  now  in  peril  from  nothing 
but  from  strength  of  its  own  discordant  elements  that 
'monarchy  of  the  west'  in  reality,  which  Spain  was  in 
show,  and  as  Bacon  always  maintained,  only  in  show.' 
The  survey  of  the  condition  of  his  philosophical  enterprise 
takes  more  space.  He  notes  the  stages  and  points  to 
which  his  plans  have  reached  ;  he  indicates,  with  a  favor- 
ite quotation  or  apophthegm — '  Plus  ultra' — '  ausus  vana 
contemnere^ — ^  adit  us  non  nisi  suh  persona  infantis,'  soon 
to  be  familiar  to  the  world  in  his  published  writings — the 
lines  of  argument,  sometimes  alternative  ones,  which  were 
before  him  ;  he  draws  out  schemes  of  inquiry,  specimen 
tables,  distinctions  and  classifications  about  the  subject  of 
Motion,  in  English  interlarded  with  Latin,  or  in  Latin 
interlarded  with  English,  of  his  characteristic  and  practi- 
cal sort  ;  he  notes  the  various  sources  from  which  he 
might  look  for  help  and  co-operation — '  of  learned  men 
beyond  the  seas  ' — '  to  begin  first  in  France  to  print  it ' — 
'  laying  for  a  place  to  command  wits  and  pens  ; '  he  has  his 
eye  on  rich  and  childless  bishops,  on  the  enforced  idleness 
of  State  prisoners  in  the  Tower,  like  N^orthumberland  and 
Kaleigh,'  on  the  great  schools  and  universities,  where  he 
might  perhaps  get  hold  of  some  college  for  '  Inventors  ' — 

Grating  so  harshly  all  his  days  of  quiet 
With  turbulent  and  dangerous  lunacy  ?" 
In  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  iv.,  sc.  5,  p.  142,  we  have  : 

"  Fri.  Peace,  ho,  for  shame  !  confusion's  cur  lives  not 
In  these  confusions." 
*  See  what  he  says  concerning  the  plantation  of  new  colonies  in  his 
advice  to  George  Villiers  upon  his  becoming  the  king's  favorite. 
(Works,  vol.  i.,  pp.  385-87  ) 

■^  Let  Bacon's  speecli  "  Touching  the  Recovery  of  Drowned  Min- 
eral Works,"  already  quoted,  be  called  into  relation  with  Raleigh's 
enterprise,  hereafter  to  be  considered. 


LIFE   OF   BACON".  223 

as  we  should  say  for  the  endowment  of  research.     These 
matters  fill  up  a  large  space  of  his  notes." 

This  preparation  for  all  possible  occasions  is  prettily 
expressed  in  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  vol.  ii.,  p.  64, 
in  these  words  : 

"  No  labour  comes  at  unawares  to  me  ; 
For  I  have  long  before  cast  what  may  be."  ' 

Church, ^at  pp.  78-79,  also  says  of  these  notes  :  "  It  is 
singularly  interesting  as  an  evidence  of  Bacon's  way  of 
working,  of  his  watchfulness,  his  industry,  his  care  and 
preparing  himself  long  beforehand  for  possible  occasions, 
his  readiness  to  take  any  amount  of  trouble  about  his 
present  duties,  his  self-reliant  desire  for  more  important 
and  difficult  ones.  It  exhibits  his  habit  of  self-observa- 
tion and  self-correction,  his  care  to  mend  his  natural  de- 
fects of  voice,  manner  and  delivery  ;  it  is  even  more  curi- 
ous in  showing  him  watching  his  own  physical  constitution 
and  health,  in  the  most  minute  details  of  symptoms  and 

'  Promus,  380.  (To  me,  O  virgin  !  no  aspect  of  suffering  arises  new 
or  imexpected  :  I  have  anticipated  all  things  and  gone  over  them 
beforehand  in  my  mind.)  And  note  throughout,  and  particularly 
in  the  plays,  a  distinctive  poetic  use  of  this  verb  "be."  Promus, 
975.  Frenzy,  heresy,  and  jealousy  are  three  that  seldom  or  never 
cured  be.  Promus,  500.  Tymely  crooks  the  tree  that  will  a  good 
caraocke  be.  In  Twelfth  Night,  or  What  You  will,  Act  ii.,  sc.  2, 
p.  377,  we  have  : 

"  Alas  !  our  frailty  is  the  cause,  not  we  ; 
For,  such  as  we  are  made  of,  such  we  be." 

And  same  play.  Act  ill.,  sc.  4,  p.  411,  we  have  : 

"  Oli.  Go  call  him  hither. — I  am  as  mad  as  he, 
If  sad  and  merry  madness  equal  be." 

In  Measure  for  Measure,  Act  i.,  sc.  4,  p.  33,  we  have  : 

"  Hence  shall  we  see. 
If  power  change  purpose,  what  our  seemers  be." 

In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  211.  we  have  : 

"  'Tis  thus,  they  rescu'd  were  ;  but  yet,  you  see. 
They're  scourg'd  to  boot :  let  this  your  caution  be." 

And  on  p.  69  we  have  : 

"  The  prophets  used  much  by  metaphors 
To  set  forth  truth  :  yea,  who  so  considers 
Christ,  his  apostles  too,  shall  plainly  see 
That  truths  to  this  day  in  such  mantels  be. ' ' 


224  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

remedies,  equally  with  scientific  and  a  practical  object.' 
It  contains  an  estimate  of  his  income,  his  expenditures, 
his  debts,  schedules  of  land  and  jewels,  his  rules  for  the 
economy  of  his  estate,  his  plans  for  his  new  gardens  and 
terraces  and  ponds  and  buildings  at  Grorhambury." 

In  a  letter  to  Qneen  Elizabeth,  in  1599,  asking  assist- 
ance to  free  his  Tub,  his  Grorhambury  residence,  from 
debt,  may  be  seen  this  intention  of  beautifying  it  and  its 
grounds,  and  he  ends  the  letter  thus  :  "  And  so  most 
humbly  craving  pardon,  I  leave  all  to  your  Majesty's  good- 
ness, and  yourself  to  the  dear  preservation  of  the  divine 
Majesty  :  from  my  Tub  not  yet  hallowed  by  your  sacred 
Majesty,  this  12th  of  March  1599. "  (Bacon's' Letters,  vol. 
ii.,  p.  165.)  This  letter  came  not  to  light  until  after 
Harley's  death,  as  we  shall  see. 

The  Advancement  of  Learning  had  been  now  three,  or 
nearly  three  years  out.  And  the  babe  or  child  this  year, 
1608,  began  to  be  clothed  as  the  Novum  Organum. 

"  Truth  is  the  daughter  of  time,"  says  Bacon.  This 
daughter  is  the  Miranda  of  The  Tempest.  In  his  article 
on  the  Interpretation  of  Nature  (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  544), 
as  to  certain  subtle  philosophic  methods,  he  says  :  "  Such 
works  are  called  Epistemides,  or  daughters  of  science,  which 
do  not  otherwise  come  into  action  than  by  knowledge  and 
pure  interpretation,  seeing  they  contain  nothing  obvious. 
But  between  these  and  the  obvious  how  many  degrees 
thinkest  thou  are  numbered  ?  ^  Receive,  my  son,  and 
seal." 

And  in  his  article  entitled  "  True  Hints  on  the  Inter- 
pretation of  Nature"  (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  557),  he,  as  to  his 
philosophy,  says  :  "  Why,  I  met  not  long  ago  a  certain  evil- 
eyed  old  fortune  telling  woman  who  muttering  I  know  not 
what,  prophesied  that  my  offspring  should  die  in  the 
desert." 

Concerning  Miranda's  birth,  Prospero  in  this  play,  Act 
i.,  sc.  2,  p.  22,  says  : 

"  Canst  thou  remember 
A  time  before  we  came  unto  this  cell  ? 
I  do  not  think  thou  canst  ;  for  then  thou  wast  not 
Out  three  years  old." 

'  His  tendencies  at  times  to  melanclioly  we  liave  already  noted. 
'■'  We  shall  later  have  occasion  to  refer  to  Bacon's  references  touch- 
ing the  numbers  of  Pythagoras  in  connection  with  philosophy. 


LIFE    OF    BACOJS".  •         225 

Hudson  says  that  the  word  "  out"  is  used  for  entirely, 
quite.' 

A  little  farther  on  Prospero  says  : 

"  Twelvre  years  since,  Miranda,  twelve  years  since, 
Thy  father  was  the  duke  of  Milan,  and 
A  prince  of  power." 

This  dukedom  was  his  empire  of  learning,  concerning 
wliich  he  had  laid  such  deep  basis  for  eternity,  and  novV 
overtlirown  by  the  ruin  of  his  name.  (See  Sonnet  124, 
p.  99.) 

Hence,  in  1608,  his  babe  or  child,  the  Advancement  of 
Learning,  had  been  but  throe  years  out.  Until  Bacon  en- 
tered actively  into  the  government  of  James,  in  1G08,  he 
was  a  free  man,  a  prince  over  his  literary  empire.'  The 
persons  or  midwives  that  attended  upon  Miranda's  birth 
may  refer  to  the  forms  through  which  this  truth  liad  been 
swaddled  on  its  way  to  its  birth,  or,  perhaps,  to  the  old 
philosophies  perused  by  Bacon  in  the  unfoldment  of  his 
owu— his  Miranda.  What  she  was  to  do  for  the  world 
when  wedded  to  a  prince  of  i)ovver  may  be  seen  later. 

In  1609  he  made  his  third  appearance  as  an  author, 
and  in  one  of  his  most  finished  worlcs,  entitled  De  Sapientia 

•  Fowler  in  his  work  on  Bacon,  in  the  Englisli  Philosopliers  Series, 
p.  13,  says  :  "  It  was  probably  about  this  time  that  he  finally  settled 
the  plan  of  the  Great  Imtauration,  and  began  to  call  it  by  that  name. 
The  Gogitatd  et  Visa,  which  contains  the  substance  of  the  first  book 
of  the  Novum  Organum,  must  have  been  composed  as  early  as  tl)e 
summer  or  autumn  of  1607,  and,  if  we  may  accept  literally  what 
Rawley  tells  us  of  this  latter  work— namely,  that  he  had  himself 
seen  at  least  twelve  revisions  of  it,  'revised  year  by  year  one  after 
another,'  we  must  fix  the  year  1G08  as  the  time  at  which  Bacon  prob- 
ably began  to  compose  the  Novum  Organum  itself." 
_  2  Note  in  the  play  the  twelve  years  Ariel,  or  the  airy  spirit,  cogita- 
tive faculty,  was  pent  in  an  oak.  And  in  Love's  Labor's  Lost.  Act  iv. 
sc,  3,  p.  414,  we  have  :  "  Those  thoughts  to  me  were  oaks,  to  thee 
hke  osiers  bow'd."  The  oak  is  often  referred  to  in  the  plays.  Of 
the  oak  Bacon  says:  "  There  is  no  tree  which,  besides  the  natural 
fruit,  doth  bear  so  many  bastard  fruits  as  the  oak  doth  :  for  besides 
the  acorn,  it  beareth  galls,  oak-apples,  and  certain  oak-nuts,  which 
are  inflammable  ;  and  certain  oak-berries,  sticking  close  to  the  body  of 
the  tree  without  stalk.  It  beareth  also  misseltoe,  though  rarely.  The 
cause  of  all  these  may  be,  the  closeness  and  solidness  of  the  wood  and 
pith  of  the  oak  ;  which  maketh  several  juices  find  several  eruptions. 
And  therefore  if  you  will  devise  to  make  any  super- plants,  jo\i  must 
give  the  sap  plentiful  rising  and  hard  issue.''  (Bacon's  Natural  His- 
tory, sub.  635.) 


226  LIFE   OF    BACON". 

Veternm,  or  the  "  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients."  The  fables 
here  treated  are  thirty-one  in  number.  They  abound  in 
deep  poetic  thonght,  which  will  be  found  spread  into 
nearly  every  jjhase  of  this  literature.'  Three  of  these 
fables — "  Pan,  or  Nature  ;"  "  Perseus,  or  War  ;"  and 
"  Dionysus,  or  Bacchus" — will  be  found  considerably 
expanded  in  the  De  Augmentis. 

As  to  the  fable  of  the  "  Sirens  or  Pleasures,"  he  says  : 
"  These  Sirens  are  said  to  dwell  in  remote  isles,  for  that 
pleasures  love  privacy  and  retired  places,  shunning  alwa3's 
too  much  company  of  people.  The  Siren's  songs  are  so 
vulgarly  understood,  together  with  the  deceits  and  danger 
of  them,  as  that  they  need  no  exposition.  But  that  of 
the  bones  appearing  like  white  cliffs/  and  descried  afar 
off,  hath  more  acuteness  in  it  :  for  thereby  is  signified, 
that  albeit  the  examples  of  afflictions  be  manifest  and 
eminent,  yet  do  they  not  sufficiently  deter  us  from  the 
wicked  enticements  of  pleasures."    (Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  313.) 

Bacon  here  shows  that  these  pleasures  are  resisted  through 
the  methods  either  of  Orpheus  or  Ulysses,  and  concerning 
which  he  says  :  "  The  first  means  to  shun  these  inordinate 
pleasures  is  to  withstand  and  resist  them  in  their  begin- 
nings, and  seriously  to  shun  all  occasions  that  are  offered 
to  debauch  and  entice  the  mind,  which  is  signified  in  that 
stopping  of  the  ears  f  and  that  remedy  is  properly  used  by 

'  Note  them  particularly  as  woven  into  the  works  of  Addison. 
But  in  vol.  iv.  of  his  works,  p.  44,  it  is  stated  tliat  the  heathen 
mythology  should  thenceforth  be  abandoned  in  literary  work,  except 
as  therein  provided.  The  new  philosophy  was  now  to  govern,  out  of 
Clirislian,  instead  of  heathen  pens.  The  peace  alluded  to  in  the 
article  will  be  better  understood  when  we  come  to  Swift's  "Battle 
of  the  Books,"  Swift  being  one  of  the  actors  in  the  great  drama. 

*  In  the  Comedy  of  Errors,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  182,  we  have  : 

"  Dro.  S.  I  look'd  for  the  chalky  cliffs,  but  I  could  find  no  white- 
ness in  them  :  but  I  guess  it  stood  in  her  chin,  by  the  salt  rheum  that 
ran  between  France  and  it. ' ' 

*  Note  the  expression  "  whisper  in  the  ear"  throughout  these 
writings.  Bacon  says  :  "  That  courtier  who  obtains  a  boon  of  the 
Emperor,  that  he  might  every  morning  at  his  coming  into  his  presence 
humbly  whisper  him  in  the  ear  and  say  nothing,  asked  no  un- 
profitable suit  for  himself  ;  but  such  a  fancy  raised  onlj'  by  an  opin- 
ion cannot  be  long  lived,  unless  the  man  have  solid  worth  to  uphold 
it  :  otherwise  when  once  discovered  it  vanisheth  suddenly. "  (Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  15.)  And  in  vol.  7,  p.  423,  he  says  :  "At  that 
time  if  one  had  whispered  me  in  the  ear,  and  said  stay  these  things  : 
England  is  a  cold  covntry  :  defer  them  till  the  Prince  of  Wales  and 


LIFE   OF   BACOK.  227 

the  meaner  and  baser  sort  of  people,  as  it  were  Ulysses's 
followers  or  mariners,  whereas  more  heroic  and  noble 
spirits  may  boldly  converse  even  in  the  midst  of  these 
seducing  pleasures,  if  with  a  resolute  constancy  they  stand 
upon  their  guard  and  fortify  their  minds,  and  so  take 
greater  contentment  in  the  trial  and  experience  of  this 
approved  virtue  ;  learning  rather  thoroughly  to  under- 
stand the  follies  and  vanities  of  those  pleasures  by  con- 
templation than  by  submission." 

He  here  also  says  :  "  Foi-  the  remedying  of  this  misery 
a  double  means  was  at  last  found  out,  "the  one  by  Ulysses, 
the  other  by  Orpheus.  Ulysses,  to  make  experiment  of 
his  device,  caused  all  the  ears  of  his  company  to  be  stopped 
with  wax,  and  made  himself  to  be  bound  to  the  mainmast, 
with  special  commandment  to  his  mariners  not  to  be 
loosed,  albeit  himself  should  require  them  so  to  do.  But 
Orpheus  neglected  and  disdained  to  be  so  bound,  with  a 
shrill  and  sweet  voice  singing  praises  of  the  gods  to  his 
harp,  suppressed  the  songs  of  the  Sirens,  and  so  freed 
himself  from  their  danger."    -See  Sonnet  119,  p.  28. 

Other  important  papers  were  prepared  bv  Bacon  during 
this  year. 

Early  in  the  next  year,  IGIO,  James'  notable  fourth 
Parliament  convened,  and  concerned  itself  chiefly  with 
what  became  known  as  "  The  Great  Contract."  This  was 
Salisbury's  pet  scheme  during  the  last  two  years  of  his 
life  for  advancing  the  king's  revenue,  and  who  was  now 
compelled  to  disclose  his  necessities,  even  to  seeking  private 
aid.  It  was  no  very  decorous  transaction,  as  between  king 
and  people.  Having  ended  in  failure,  it  was  fruitful  but 
m  making  prominent  to  all  eyes  the  king's  weakness. 
By  this  scheme  he  was  to  surrender  certain  revenue  pre- 
rogatives touching  wardships  and  purveyance,  abuses  of 
which  had  been  more  or  less  complained  of  during  earlier 
sessions.  The  Commons,  in  consideration  for  this  sur- 
render, offered  him  a  settled  revenue  of  £200,000  a  year. 

the  Marquis  of  Buckingham  and  the  Count  Gondomar  meet  in  Spain 
where  fruit  ripens  faster  :  I  should  have  smiled  at,  it."  In  The  Pil-' 
grini's  Progress,  p.  144,  we  have  :  ' '  But  indeed  tliis  Shame  was  a  bold 
villam  ;  1  could  scarcely  shake  him  out  of  my  company  ■  yea  he 
would  be  hunting  of  me,  and  continually  whispering  me  in  the'ear 
with  some  one  or  other  of  the  infirmities  that  attend  reli-Won  "  Note 
this  expression  in  the  Defoe  literature,  and  particularly  in  the  Historv 
01  the  Devil. 


228  LIFE    OF   BACON". 

After  much  cavil  the  king  consented  to  surrender  these 
ancient  rights,  and  thus  to  supply  his  necessities,  did 
he  yield  to  encroachments.  It  now  but  remained  for 
the  Commons  to  designate  the  funds  from  which  the  sum 
should  be  paid.  As  the  journals  of  this  session  are  said 
to  be  missing,  the  reasons  for  the  failure  are  left  somewhat 
in  the  dark.  It  does,  however,  appear  that  the  king, 
highly  indignant  at  the  failure,  immediately  dissolved  the 
Parliament,  and  which  through  different  sessions  had  sat 
nearly  seven  years. 

Concerning  this  scheme  Bacon  says  :  "  But  in  the  suc- 
ceeding Parliament  in  7°,  when  that  the  Lord  Treasurer 
that  last  was  had  out  of  his  own  vast  and  glorious  ways  to 
poor  and  petty  ends,  set  afoot  the  Great  Contract,  like 
the  Tower  of  Babylon,  building  an  imngination  as  if  the 
king  should  never  after  need  his  people  more,  nor  the 
people  the  King,  but  that  this  land  should  no  more  be 
like  the  land  of  promise  watered  by  the  dew  of  heaven, 
which  sometimes  was  drawn  from  the  earth  and  some- 
times fell  back  upon  the  earth  again  ;  but  like  the  land 
of  Egypt  watered  by  certain  streams  and  cuts  of  his  own 
devising  ;  and  afterwards  either  out  of  variety,  or  having 
met  with  somewhat'  that  he  looked  not  for,  or  otherwise 
having  made  use  of  the  opinion,  in  the  end  undid  his  baby 
that  he  had  made, — then  grew  the  change."  (Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  v.,  p.  178.) 

Early  in  the  last  session  notice  was  received  of  the  as- 
sassination of  the  French  monarch,  Henry  the  Fourth, 
He  had  been  educated  a  Protestant.  This  event  awakened 
fears  afresh  throughout  Europe  touching  the  Papacy. 
The  Commons,  consisting  now  of  a  large  Puritan  element, 
sought  to  limit  the  royal  prerogative  in  ecclesiastical 
matters,  and  which  since  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth 
had  been  regarded  as  exclusively  in  the  crown.  They 
sought  to  pass  a  bill  against  the  establishment  of  any 
ecclesiastical  canon  without  consent  of  Parliament.     The 

'  Note  this  distinctive  use  of  the  word  "  somewhat."  In  Measure 
for  Measure,  Act  v.,  sc.  1,  p.  116,  we  have  : 

"  Isab.  This  gentleman  told  somewhat  of  my  tale." 

Pronuis,  953.  Somewhat  is  better  than  nothing.  In  The  Merry- 
Wives  of  Windsor,  Act  iv.,  sc.  5,  p.  313,  we  have  :  "  Here  is  a  letter 
will  say  spmcvvhat. " 


LIFE   OF   BACON.  229 

Lords,  however,  as  was  usual,  defended  the  barriers  of  the 
throne  and  rejected  the  bill. 

The  Commons  also,  in  an  address  to  the  king,  objected 
to  his  borrowing  money  upon  privy  seals,  and  desired  that 
the  subjects  should  not  be  forced  to  lend  money  to  his 
majesty  nor  give  a  reason  for  their  refusal,  and  so  the 
spirit  of  the  Commons  at  the  dissolution  of  the  Parliament 
in  February,  1611,  may  be  readily  seen. 

In  Bacon's  alluded-to  speech  touching  Drowned  Mineral 
Works  may  be  found  an  allusion  to  the  noted  Sutton 
Hospital  case,  and  which  arose  through  a  contest  of  the 
will  of  one  Thomas  Sutton  who  died  in  December  of  this 
year.  This  will  provided  for  the  founding  of  a  certain 
charter  house  or  hospital,  in  which  Sutton  is  said  to  have 
had  much  interest.  Bacon  for  a  time  opposed  the  enter- 
prise, and  prepared  a  paper  to  the  king  concerning  it,  and 
which  shows  his  objections  to  be  (1)  fears  of  profligacy, 
which  was  rife  at  this  period,  and  (2)  fears  of  its  being 
an  instrument  for  propagating  the  Roman  faith.  See 
Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iv.,  pp.  249-55. 

Concerning  its  alms  feature,  he,  on  p.  251,  says  :  "  And 
of  this  kind  1  can  find  but  one  example  with  us,  which  is 
the  alms  knights  of  Windsor  ;  which  particular  would 
give  a  man  small  encouragement  to  follow  that  precedent. ' ' 
See  Shakespeare's  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

The  mentioned  speech  was,  we  judge,  prepared  some 
later,  after  this  enterprise  had  become  a  success,  and  made 
doubtless  in  connection  with  a  Baconian  scheme  for  rev- 
enue hereafter  to  be  considered.  This  speech,  like  the 
New  Atlantis  itself,  will  be  found  to  touch  at  many 
points  in  Bacon's  attributed  work  ;  and  we  indeed  think  it 
a  most  characteristic  piece  of  writing,  though  Mr.  Sped- 
ding  has  failed  to  give  it  place  in  his  work. 

The  last  Parliament  had  not  supplied  the  king's  neces- 
sities. England's  debt  was  now  £500,000  and  the  ex- 
penditure in  excess  of  the  annual  revenue  was  £160,000 
when,  on  May  24th,  1612,  its  Lord  Treasurer,  Salisbury, 
died.  Bacon  felt  the  times  to  be  critical  and  hence  to 
demand  his  most  subtle  care.  The  king's  tendencies  and 
the  signs  of  the  times  were  already  in  his  eye.  The 
duties  of  Prime  Minister  or  Treasurer  fell  now  into  the 
keeping  of  the  king's  own  hands,  and  from  this  moment 
the  government  of  James  became   one,  not  through   a 


230  LIFE    OF    BACON". 

public  minister,  but  one  managed  through  and  by  means 
of  unscrupulous  favorites,  who,  the  king  included,  looked 
merely  for  themselves.  Bacon  hoped  to  succeed  to  Salis- 
bury's position,  but  Northampton,  entertaining  Catholic 
views,  and  with  a  particular  design  in  them,  as  we  shall 
see,  was  decidedly  against  it.  He  had  a  controlling  influ- 
ence with  Somerset,  the  king's  favorite,  and  was  the  most 
powerful  man  in  the  Government  of  James. 

A  strange  step  was  now  taken  touching  England's 
Treasury.  It  was  placed  in  commission,  and  Bacon  was 
made  one  of  the  sub-commissioners.^  These  courses  were 
not  approved  by  him.  He  ever  urged  the  king  to  a  re- 
liance upon  Parliament  and  the  appointment  of  a  Treas- 
urer. He  still  under  them  did  what  he  could  toward  the 
improvement  of  the  revenue  ;  and  later,  as  we  shall  see,  he 
devised  some  important  scheme  concerning  the  same,  but 
which  to  this  day  remains,  as  to  him,  undisclosed. 

On  November  Gth  of  this  year  died  the  king's  eldest 
son,  Henry,  Piince  of  Wales,  at  the  age  of  nineteen.  In 
him  the  Protestant  hope  of  tbe  nation  was  centred.  He 
was  an  ardent  admirer  of  Elizabeth's  brave  hero,  Raleigh, 
and  says  :  "  Sure  no  king  but  my  father  would  keep  such 
a  bird  in  a  cage."  Whatever  may  have  been  the  cause, 
he  at  least  appears  to  have  been  somewhat  distasteful  to 
the  king.  At  his  death  grave  susjucions  were  entertained 
that  he  had  been  poisoned,  and  that  James  and  his  then 
favorite,  Eochester,  afterward  Earl  of  Somerset,  knew 
something  concerning  his  taking  off. 

Salisbury's  death  had  left  vacant  the  lucrative  position 
of  Master  of  the  Wards,  to  which  position  he  had  suc- 
ceeded upon  his  father's  death,  and  Bacon  was  talked  of 
for,  and  probably  expected  the  position,  having  prepared 
a  speech  for  the  new  master's  place  and  drawn  up  rules 
for' it.  The  office  went,  however,  to  George  Carey,  upon 
whose  death,  soon  after,  Bacon  applied  for  the  position 
through  the  then  favorite  Rochester  in  these  words,  and 
which  is  the  only  letter  known  to  have  passed  between 
these  parties  : 

"  It  may  please  tour  good  L.:  This  Mastership  of 
the  Wards  is  like  a  mist.     Sometimes  it  goeth  upwards, 

'  As  to  the  projects  devised  for  aiding  out  the  revenue,  sec  Bacon's 
Lettere,  vol.  iv.,  pp.  314-39.     As  to  the  scheme  itself  see  p.  283. 


LIFE   OF   BACOX.  231 

and  sometimes  it  falletli  downwards.  If  it  go  up  to  great 
Lords,  then  it  is  as  it  was  at  the  first ;  if  it  fall  down  to 
mean  men,  then  it  is  as  it  was  at  the  last.  Brrt  neither  of 
these  ways  concern  me  in  particular.  But  if  it  should  in 
a  middle  region'  go  to  lawyers,  then  I  beseech  your  L. 
have  some  care  of  me.  The  Attorney  and  the  Solicitor  are 
as  the  king's  champions  for  civil  business,  and  they  had 
need  have  some  place  of  rest  in  their  eye  for  their  en- 
couragement. The  Mastership  of  the  Rolls,  which  was  the 
ordinary  place  kept  for  them,  is  gone  from  them.  If  this 
place  should  go  to  a  lawyer,  and  not  to  them,  their  hopes 
must  diminish.  Thus  1  rest,"  etc.  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol. 
iv.,  p.  342.) 

But  Bacon  would  not  conform  to  the  new  methods  of 
paying  tribute  to  favorites  (see  his  letter  to  the  king, 
p.  345),  and  so  the  office  went,  to  Sir  Walter  Cope.  It  was 
now  manipulated  as  the  king  would  have  it,  under  his  own 
eye.  See  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iv.,  pp.  283-89.  During 
the  following  year  the  Chief  Justiceship  of  the  King's 
Bench  fell  vacant,  to  which  position,  at  Bacon's  sugges- 
tion. Coke,  ever  troublesome  upon  questions  of  prerogative 
was,  though  distasteful  to  him,  appointed  ;  and  Hobart 
was  appointed  to  his  position  in  the  Common  Pleas,  thus 
leaving  vacant  the  office  of  Attorney-General,  to  which 
position  Bacon  now  succeeded,  October  27th,  1C13  ;  and 
Yelverton  became  Solicitor. 

From  this  moment  Bacon  became  a  more  confidential 
adviser  of  the  king.  But  unfortunately  James  had  not; 
the  sagacity,  the  breadth  of  views,  the  steadiness  of  nerve, 
nor  the  honesty  of  purpose,  either  to  accept,  or  to  carry 
forward  Bacon's  views  of  empire.  He,  as  Knight  says, 
was  but  a  king  for  himself  alone. 

This  year  also,  and  on  February  14th  the  king's  daughter, 
the  Princess  Elizabeth,  became  wedded  to  Frederick  the 
Fifth  of  Germany,  the  Elector  Palatine,  Bacon  preparing 
the  necessary  papers  for  the  event,  and  probably  the  mask 
given  in  honor  of  it.  Frederick,  upon  undertaking  the 
government  of  his  Palatinate,  two  years  later,  became  the 
head  of  the  Protestant  union  of  German  princes,  on  which 
account,  coupled  with  his  then  relation  with  England,  he 

'  We  here  again  liave  the  expression  "the  middle  region,"  men- 
tioned in  earlier  pages. 


232  LIFE    OF    BACOlSr. 

was,  in  1619,  chosen  King  of  Bohemia,  then  in  revolt,  but 
to  the  great  discomfiture  of  Spain,  as  we  siiall  see. 

Bacon  now  implored  the  king  to  discontinue  the  un- 
warranted methods  being  pursued  for  revenue  and  to 
summon  a  Parliament.  This  advice  was  finally  acted 
upon,  and  a  Parliament  was  convened  in  April,  1614,  upon 
the  opening  of  which  Bacon  is  said  to  have  made  an  able 
speech.  A  rumor,  however,  arose  that  certain  persons, 
and  chiefly  those  who  had  opposed  a  Parliament,  and 
called  "  undertakers,"  had  entered  upon  an  undertaking 
to  secure  a  majority  to  enable  the  king  to  control  the 
House,  and  so  nothing  could  be  effected.  In  order  to 
secure  liberty  the  Commons  were  now  losing  their  true 
ends,  as  Bacon  well  saw,  and  he  made  effort  to  stay  this 
influence.  The  times  were  critical.  The  nation  was  sadly 
in  debt.  Spain,  with  the  Pope  at  her  back,  was  ready  to 
invade  at  tiie  sliglitest  pretext.  The  Dutch  would  gladly 
have  beaten  the  English  merchants  out  of  the  markets  of 
the  world,  and  the  pirates  of  Algiers  and  Tunis  were 
plundering  them  as  they  passed.  Unable  now  to  obtain 
any  aid  from  Parliament,  certain  of  the  nobility  and  clergy 
in  and  about  London  made  presents  to  the  king.  Letters 
were  written  to  sheriffs  and  to  justices  in  the  diff'erent  coun- 
ties, to  magistrates  of  corporations  and  others,  informing 
them  of  what  had  been  done  in  the  metropolis,  and  stating 
how  acceptable  similar  expressions  woiild  be  from  the 
country.  Concerning  this  mode  of  raising  money,  one 
Oliver  St.  John,  said  to  be  a  gentleman  of  an  ancient 
family,  wrote,  October  11th,  1614,  to  the  Mayor  of  Marl- 
borough, claiming  this  benevolence  was  against  law,  reason, 
and  religion,  and  insinuating  that  the  king  by  promoting 
it  had  violated  his  coronation  oath,  and  that  by  such 
means  as  these  King  Richard  the  Second  had  given  Henry 
the  Fourth  an  opportunity  to  deprive  him  of  his  crown  ; 
and  desiring,  if  thought  fit,  that  its  sentiments  should  be 
expressed  to  the  justices  who  were  to  meet  respecting  the 
benevolences.  St.  John  for  this  was  tried  in  the  Star 
Chamber,  April  15th,  1615,  by  the  Attorney-General, 
Bacon,  as  counsel  for  the  crown.  St.  John  was  couvicted 
and  fined  £5000  ;  was  to  be  imprisoned  during  the  king's 
pleasure,  and  ordered  to  make  submission  in  writing. 
This  period  presents  elements,  we  think,  entering  into 
the  play  of  Timon  of  Athens,  and  which  first  made  its 


LIFE    OF   BACON.  233 

appearance  in  the  Great  Folio  of  1623.  See  Anatomy  of 
Melancholy  as  to  Timon,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  167-70. 

At  about  this  time  Bacon  was  much  concerned  with  the 
king's  needs,  as  will  appear  from  his  letter  to  him,  Jan- 
uary 22d,  1G15,  and  wherein  he  says  :  "  There  is  another 
business  proper  for  me  to  crave  of  your  majesty  at  this 
time,  as  one  that  have,  in  my  eye,  a  great  deal  of  service 
to  be  done  concerning  your  casual  revenue  ;  but  consider- 
ing times  and  persons,  I  desire  to  be  strengthened  by  some 
such  form  of  commandment  under  your  royal  hand,  as  I 
send  you  here  enclosed."     (Works,  vol.  ii.,  'p.  326.) 

To  this  early  caution  and  care  he  refers  later  in  Sonnet 
48,  as  well  as  alludes  to  his  literary  products  being  held  by 
the  king  as  trifles,     lie  says  : 

"  How  careful  was  I,  when  I  took  my  way, 
Eaoh  trifle  under  truest  bars  to  thrust  ; 
That  to  my  use  it  mi,s;ht  unused  stay 
From  hands  of  falsehood,  in  sure  wards'  of  trust  ! 
But  thou,  to  whom  my  jewels  trifles  are, 
]\lost  worthy  comfort,  now  my  greatest  grief, 
Thou,  best  of  dearest,  and  mine  only  care, 
Art  left  the  prey  of  every  vulgar  thief. 
Thee  have  I  not  lock'd  up  in  any  chest, 
Save  where  thou  art  not.  though  I  feel  thou  art. 
Within  the  gentle  closure  of  my  breast,  from 
Whence  at  pleasure  thou  may'st  come  and  part ; 
And  even  thence  thou  wilt  be  stol'n,  I  fear, 
For  truth  proves  thievish  for  a  prize  so  dear." 

St.  John  after  a  short  imprisonment  was  released  upon 
making  full  submission  and  apology,  and  which  in  this 
case  was  probably  the  chief  end  of  the  prosecution,  as  the 
hue  was  remitted.  Other  prosecutions  followed  against 
Pecham,  Talbot,  Owen,  and  others  for  treasonable  ex- 
pressions growing  out  of  then  existing  dissensions.     Owen 

'The  word  "ward"  is  thus  used  by  Bacon.  "  Since,  I  thank 
God.  I  am  prettily  recovered  ;  for  I  have  lain  at  two  wards,  the  one 
against  my  disease,  the  other  against  my  physicians,  who  are  strange 
creatures."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  481.)  As  to  the  mysteries 
of  religion  Bacon  says  :  "  With  regard  to  the  explanation  of  the 
mysteries,  we  see  that  God  vouchsafes  to  descend  to  the  weakness  of 
our  apprehension,  by  so  expressing  his  mysteries  that  they  may  be 
most  sensible  to  ns  ;  and  by  grafting  his  revelations  upon  the  notions 
and  conceptions  of  our  reason  ;  and  by  applying  his  inspirations  to 
open  our  understanding,  as  the  form  of  the  key  to  the  ward  of  the 
lock."     (Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  114.) 


234  LIFE    OF    BACON". 

was  convicted,  and  remained  in  prison  until  July,  1618, 
when  the  Spanish  Ambassador,  Gondomar,  procured  his  fall 
pardon  on  condition  of  his  leaving  the  country.  And 
what  interest  had  the  Spanish  Ambassador  in  this  matter? 
We  would  that  Bacon's  most  able  charge  in  this  case  may 
be  read,  not  merely  by  reason  of  our  intention  of  calling 
it  into  relation  with  the  Defoe  literature,  but  in  order 
that  the  reader  may  be  convinced  that  Bacon's  subtle 
design  in  it — the  case  yielding  the  opportunity— was  to 
stay  tendencies  which  he  then  saw  in  the  king  and  others 
toward  Spain.  It  was  spoken  on  May  17th,  1615,  and 
will  be  found  in  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  v.,  pp.  160-67. 

Under  the  strictest  pressure  from  the  king  during  some 
of  these  trials,  steps  were  taken  by  Bacon  which  at  the 
present  day  would  be  thought  improper.  These  must  be 
looked  at,  however,  as  of  the  age  in  which  they  occurred. 
England's  modern  ideas  of  jurisprudence  were  not  yet. 
At  that  day  the  king  was  thought  to  be  the  fountain  of  law, 
the  seats  of  justice  were  his  seats,  and  good  government 
consisted  but  in  carrying  out  judiciously  the  royal  will, 
the  hampering  of  which  had  been  but  recently  begun. 
Coke,  one  of  the  judges  before  whom  these  causes  were 
tried,  was  becoming  troublesome  to  the  king  in  various 
ways  on  questions  of  prerogative.  The  mentioned  im- 
propriety consisted  in  the  king's  resolution  to  obtain  the 
opinion  of  the  judges  upon  certain  legal  points  before  the 
prosecutions  commenced  in  certain  of  these  cases,  and 
Bacon  was  employed  to  confer  with  Coke  and  other  of  the 
judges  for  the  purpose.  Suppose  he  had  not  complied  ? 
And  yet,  it  is  needless  to  say  that  such  a  course  would  now 
be  censured.  In  case  of  conviction,  however,  where  the 
facts  would  warrant  it.  Bacon  seems  ever  to  have  urged 
upon  the  king  that  "  mercy  is  above  the  sceptered  sway." 

It  was  at  about  this  time  that  Bacon  presented  the  king 
with  some  important  scheme  (Salisbury's  had  failed) 
touching  his  revenue,  and  of  which  Mr.  Spedding  says  : 

"  Easter  term  began  in  1615  on  the  26th  of  Ajiril,  and 
Bacon  returned  from  his  vacation  with  a  budget  of  papers 
for  the  King  on  the  means  of  improving  his  revenue.  I 
have  not  succeeded  in  finding  any  which  answer  the  de- 
scription, and  I  am  afiaid  they  are  altogether  lost.  If 
they  should  ever  be  recovered  they  can  hardly  fail  to  throw 
light  of  the  most  valuable  kind  upon  his  political  prin- 


LIFE    OJ?    BACON".  235 

ciples  ;  being  a  contribution  entirely  voluntary  to  the 
solution  of  the  main  political  difficulty  of  his  times.  As 
it  is,  we  must  content  ourselves  with  the  knowledge,  de- 
rived from  the  next  letter,  that  this  was  the  subject,  or  one 
of  the  subjects,  with  which  he  was  busy  during  the  interval 
of  comparative  leisure  between  the  law-terms." 

The  letter  is  as  follows  : 

"It  may  please  youk  Majesty:  I  may  remember 
what  Tacitus  said  by  occasion  that  Tiberius  was  often  and 
long  absent  fi'om  Eome.  In  urhe,  et  parva  et  magna  ne- 
gotia  imperatorem  simul  previunt.  But  saith  he,  In  re- 
cessu,  dimissis  reins  minoris  momenti,  stimmm  reruni  niag- 
narum  magis  agituntur.  This  maketh  me  think  it  shall 
be  no  incivility  to  trouble  your  Majesty  with  business  dur- 
ing your  abode  from  London  ;  knowing  that  your  Ma- 
jesty's meditations  are  the  principal  wheel'  of  your  estate  ; 
and  being  warranted  by  a  former  commandment  which  I 
received  from  you. 

"  I  do  now  only  send  your  Majesty  these  papers  inclosed, 
because  I  do  greatly  desire  so  far  forth  to  preserve  my 
credit  with  you,  as  thus  ; — that  whereas  lately  (perhaps 
out  of  too  much  desire,  which  induceth  too  much  belief), 
I  was  bold  to  say  that  I  thought  it  as  easy  for  your  Majesty 
to  come  out  of  want  as  to  go  forth  of  your  gallery  ;  your 
Majesty  would  not  take  me  for  a  dreamer  or  a  projector.^ 
I  send  your  Majesty  therefore  some  grounds  of  my  hopes. 
And  for  that  paper  which  I  have  gathered  of  increase- 
ments  separate,  I  beseech  you  to  give  me  leave^  to  think 
that  if  any  of  the  particulars  do  fail,  it  will  be  rather  for 
want  of  workmanship  in  those  that  shall  deal  in  them 
than  want  of  materials  in  the  things  themselves.     The 

'For  future  reference  note  the  expression  "principal  wheel." 
Bacon  also  uses  the  expression,  "  Opinion  is  a  master  wheel  in  these 
cases."     And  see  p.  56. 

^  Note  here  and  for  future  reference  the  use  of  the  word  "pro- 
jector," 

^  Already  have  we  called  attention  to  this  suave  expression  "  give 
me  leave,"  and  which  by  the  same  identity  of  use  occurs  through- 
out and  even  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  by  the  itinerant  Bunyan. 
In  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  302,  we  have  :  "  Sir  (said  the  dervise)  give 
me  leave  to  ask  your  Majesty  a  question  or  two."  And  same  vol., 
p.  202,  we  have  :  "  The  limits  of  my  paper  will  not  give  me  leave  to 
he  particular  in  instances  of  this  kind  :  the  reader  will  easily  remark 
them  in  his  perusal  of  the  poem." 


236  LIFE   OF    BACOK. 

other  paper  hath  many  discarding  cards  ;  and  I  send  it 
chiefly  that  your  Majesty  may  be  the  less  surprised  by  pro- 
jectors, who  pretend  sometimes  great  discoveries  and  in- 
ventions in  things,  that  have  been  propounded,  and  per- 
haps after  a  better  fashion,  long  since.  God  Almighty 
preserve  your  Majesty."  (20  April,  1615,  Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  v.,  p.  130.) 

The  Treasury  was  still  in  commission.  As  Salisbury's 
scheme  had  been  carried  too  o|)enly,  this  was  now  to  be 
managed  with  secrec3^  lie,  in  fact,  in  an  earnest  paper 
of  this  period,  recommending  a  return  to  true  methods 
and  the  appointment  of  a  Treasurer,  and  which  the  reader 
should  see,  says  :  "  A  second  reason  is,  that  the  Commis- 
sion wants  the  high  prerogative  of  king's  affairs,  which  is 
Secrecy  ;  wherein  first  your  Majesty  will  easily  believe 
that  the  very  divulging  and  noising  of  your  wants  (begun 
first  by  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  npon  art,"  and  since  con- 
tinued upon  a  kind  of  necessity  in  respect  of  a  commission 
to  many)  is  no  small  prejudice  to  your  estate  both  at  home 
and  abroad."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  pp.  85-90.) 

The  New  Atlantis  was,  we  judge,  involved  in  some  of 
these  schemes  for  revenue,  and  the  speech  at  p.  18  touch- 
ing Drowned  Mineral  AVorks  was  probably  prepared  later 
in  reference  thereto.  As  to  the  mentioned  papers,  this 
speech,  and  its  subject  matter,  we  quote  from  Bacon's 
letter  to  Buckingham,  under  date  February  17,  1619,  as 
follows  :  "  I  forgot  not  in  my  public  charge  the  last  Star- 
C;hamber-day  to  publish  his  Majesty's  honour,  for  his  late 
commission  for  the  relief  of  poor  and  suppressing  vaga- 
bonds ;  as  also  his  gracious  intention  touching  informers," 
wliich  I  perceive  was  received  with  much  applause.  That 
of  projectors  I  speak  not  of  because  it  is  not  yet  ripe, 
neither  doth  it  concern  the  execution  of  any  law,  for 
Avhich  my  speech  was  proper.  God  ever  preserve  and 
prosper  you."^     When   later   matters   have   been   called 

'  Mark  the  emphasis  placed  by  Bacon  in  his  attributed  writings 
upon  the  word  "  art,"  and  upon  the  subjects  of  good  and  bad  arts  ; 
and  note  the  use  of  the  word  throughout  the  plays. 

'^  Already,  and  for  future  reference,  have  we  called  attention  to 
the  words  "  suborned  informer"  in  one  of  the  sonnets. 

2  And  in  an  earlier  letter  to  Buckingham,  dated  January  20th, 
1619,  he  says  :  "  This  day  we  met  about  the  commission,  the  Com- 
monwealth's commission,  for  the  poor  and  vagabonds,  etc.  We  have 
put  it  into  an  excellent  good  way,  and  have  appointed  meetings  once 


LIFE    OF   BACON".  237 

into  relation  this  letter  should  be  read  in  full.  (Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  vii.,  pp.  80-81.) 

At  about  this  time  Raleigh  was  preparing  for  his  great 
enterprise,  his  voyage  to  Guinea,  later  to  be  called  under 
review.  England's  debt  was  now,  in  1615,  £7,000,000, 
and  under  the  advice  of  all  of  the  king's  counsel  a  new 
Parliament  was  resolved  upon,  but  stayed  by  reason  of  the 
great  Overbury  trial,  which  now  crowded  aside  important 
matters  of  state. 

The  king's  favorite,  Eochester,  afterward  Earl  of 
Somerset,  together  with  the  countess,  his  wife,  had  fallen 
under  grave  suspicions  of  procuring  the  sending  to  the 
Tower  and  poisoning  of  Somerset's  friend,  Sir  Thomas 
Overbury,  in  1613.  Coke  had  charge  of  the  case,  and 
began  his  investigations  September  27,  1615,  the  day 
prior  to  the  counsel  meeting  to  which  we  have  just 
alluded.  Watson,  an  under  officer  of  the  Tower,  and  who 
obtained  position  through  Somerset,  was  first  tried,  con- 
victed, and  executed  ;  and  so  far  Bacon  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  case.  But  upon  Watson's  execution  he  was 
harassed  by  persons  who  sought  desired  confessions  from 
him.  These  persons,  Mr.  Lumsden,  Sir  John  Hollis,  and 
Sir  John  Wentworth,  for  this  offence  were  prosecuted  by 
the  Attorney-General,  Bacon,  in  the  Star  Chamber,  and 
convicted  and  punished. 

Circumstances,  now  rapidly  accumulating,  pointed  so 
sharply  to  the  guilt  of  the  Earl  and  Countess  of  Somerset 
as  accessories  before  the  fact  to  the  murder,  that  the  king, 
though  with  apparent  reluctance,  was  compelled,  as  it 
were,  to  bring  them  to  trial  ;  and  which  commenced  in 
May,  1616.  By  reason  of  the  physical  condition  of  the 
countess,  as  well  as  of  some  Spanish  matters  connected 
with  the  case,  the  trial  was  postponed,  and  concerning 
which,  in  his  charge.  Bacon  says  :  "  The  time  also  of  this 
justice  hath  had  his'  true  motions.     The  time  until  the 

in  14  days,  because  it  shall  not  be  aslack."    (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  124.) 
'  Note  throughout  this  use  of  the  word  "  his."    Pronuis,  341.     So 
gyve  authors  tlieir  due  as  you  gyve  tyme  his  due  whicii  is  to  dis- 
cover truth.    In  Sonnet  74  we  have  :  "  The  earth  can  have  but  earth, 
which  is  his  due."     In  Hamlet,  Act  i.,  sc.  3,  p.  220,  we  have  : 
"  Give  thy  thoughts  no  tongue, 
Nor  any  unproportion'd  thought  his  act." 
In  the  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona*  Act  iii.,  sc.  3,  p.  172,  we  have  : 


238  LIFE   OF   BACON". 

lady's  deliverance  was  due  unto  honour,  Christianity,  and 
humanity,  in  respect  of  her  great  belly.'  The  time  since 
was  due  to  another  kind  of  deliverance  too  ;  which  was 
that  some  causes  of  state  which  were  in  the  womb  might 
likewise  be  brought  forth,  not  for  matter  of  Justice  but 
for  reason  of  state.  Likewise  this  last  procrastination  of 
days  had  the  like  weighty  grounds  and  causes."  (Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  v.,  p.  303.) 

There  was  more  involved  in  this  case  than  the  mere 
murder  of  Sir  Thomas  Overbury,  and  Bacon  at  tirst 
sought  with  all  his  subtlety  and  genius,  we  think,  to  un- 
earth it.  To  these  etforts,  doubtless,  it  was  that  Yelvertoii 
alludes  in  a  friendly  letter  of  warning  to  Bacon  more  than 
a  year  later,  and  wherein  he  says  that  "  it  is  too  common 
in  every  man's  mouth  in  couit,  that  your  greatness  shall 
be  abated,  and  as  your  tongue  hath  been  as  a  razor  to 
some,  so  shall  theirs  be  to  you."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol. 
vi.,  p.  248.) 

Tlie  indiscretion  of  Coke  at  the  very  opening  of  this 
case  put  all  upon  their  guard,  and  concerning  which  Mr. 
Spedding  says:  "On  the  27th  of  November  he  had  in- 
formed the  public  from  the  Bench  in  open  Court  that 
'  knowing  as  much  as  he  knew,  if  this  plot  had  not  been 
found  out,  neither  court,  city,  nor  many  particular  houses 
had  escaped  the  malice  of  that  wicked  crew.'  " 

Mr.  Spedding  also  says  :  "  On  the  4th  of  December  he 

"  Diike.  This  weak  impress  of  love  is  as  a  figure 
Trenched  in  ice  ;  which  with  an  liour's  heat 
Dissolves  to  water,  and  doth  lose  his  form." 

In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  174,  we  have  :  "  If  you  will  go  with 
us,  you  must  go  against  wind  and  tide  ;  the  which,  I  perceive,  is 
against  your  opinion  :  you  must  also  own  Religion  in  his  rags,  as 
well  as  when  in  his  silver  slippers  ;  and  stand  by  him,  too,  when 
bound  in  irons,  as  well  as  when  he  walketh  the  streets  with  ap- 
plause." Compare  the  use  of  the  word  ''ice"  just  above  with  the 
following.  Bacon  saj^s  :  "  For  high  treason  (I  tell  you)  is  not  written 
in  ice  ;  that  wlien  the  body  relenleth,  the  impression  goeth  away." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  v.,  p.  154.) 

'  Note,  and  particularly  in  the  Defoe  and  Addison  literature,  this 
expression  "  great  belly."  Also  the  expressions  "  big  with  child," 
"  brought  to  bed,"  etc.  In  Addison,  vol  iii.,  p.  4C9,  ■ne  have  : 
"  Her  whisper  can  make  an  innocent  young  women  big  with  child, 
or  fill  an  healthful  young  fellow  with  distempers  that  are  not  to  be 
named."  And  in  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  Act  ii.^c.  1,  we  have 
the  expression  "  And  grow  big-bellied  with  the  wanton  wind." 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  239 

made  that  other  announcement  from  the  Bench  (which 
I  have  also  mentioned)  61  a  discovery  that  made  '  our 
deliverance  as  great  as  any  that  happened  to  the  children 
of  Israel  ;'  adding  (it  is  said)  an  obscure  hint  that  he 
knew  something  about  the  death  of  'that  sweet  Prince 
Henry.'  "     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  v.,  pp.  239,  339.) 

In  the  previous  July  Somerset  had  obtained  the  king's 
signature  to  a  general  pardon,  but  it  had  been  stopped  at 
the  seal,  the  Chancellor  refusing  to  pass  it,  though  re- 
quested by  the  king,  unless  he  might  have  a  pardon  him- 
self for  doing  it,  and  there  it  stuck.  In  his  charge  of 
Somerset  Bacon,  among  other  things,  made  use  of  these 
words:  "For  impoisonment,  I  am  sorry  it  should  be 
heard  of  in  this  kingdom  :  it  is  not  tiostri  generis  iiec 
sangitinis :  it  is  an  Italian  crime,  fit  for  the  court  of 
Rome,  where  that  person  that  intoxicateth  the  Kings  of 
the  earth  with  his  cup  of  poison  in  heretical  doctrine,  is 
many  times  really  and  materially  intoxicated  and  imi)oi- 
soned  himself.'"  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  v.,  p.  309,  and 
see,  p.  320,  what  he  says  touching  Northampton's  let- 
ters.) 

The  countess  had  been  twice  married.  In  1G06,  on 
Twelfth  Night,  she,  as  Lady  Francis  Howard,  daughter 
of  the  Earl  of  Suffolk,  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  was,  under  a 
brilliant  court  mask,  married  to  Robert  Devereaux,  third 
Earl  of  Essex,  and  son  of  Elizabeth's  unfortunate  favor- 
ite, and  being  then  a  boy  of  but  fourteen  years.  Upon 
coming  to  the  throne,  James  at  once  showed  favors  to  the 
families  of  Devereaux  and  Howard,  who  had  suffered  for 
their  attachment  to  his  cause.  He  restored  the  young 
earl  to  his  blood  and  dignity,  and  he  conferred  the  titles  of 
Suffolk  and  Northampton  on  two  brothers  of  the  House  of 
Suffolk.  Upon  the  king's  arrival  in  l^ondon  young  Essex 
was  made  a  sharer  in  the  studies  and  amusements  of 
Prince  Henry,  the  king's  eldest  son.  Upon  the  marriage 
of  young  Essex,  and  before  the  consummation  of  the 
nuptial  bed,  and  for  some  reason  not  apparent,  unless  we 
indulge  a  suspicion,  he  was  sent  abroad  to  spend  some 
time  in  travel.  After  an  absence  of  four  years  he  returned 
to  find  his  countess  enamored  of  Somerset,  at  that  time 

'  Gondomar,  the  Spanish  ambassador,  was  present  and  heard  the 
charges  in  these  cases,  let  it  be  remembered,  and  which  should  be 
read  in  full. 


240  LIFE    OF   BACON. 

Viscount  Rochester.  The  marriage  relations  were  refused 
with  Essex,  whereupon,  through  the  open  and  avowed 
influence  of  James,  a  divorce  was  obtained  ;  and  under  a 
like  mask  and  pomp  she  was,  in  December,  1613,  married 
to  Somerset,  though  against  the  serious  protestations  of 
Overbury,  to  whom  Somerset  was  in  the  habit  of  com- 
municating his  secrets,  as  well  personal  as  those  of  state, 
and  he  now  feared  their  disclosure.  Overbury  disliked 
the  Howards,  and  regarded  the  countess  but  as  an  aban- 
doned and  lascivious  woman.  Upon  communication  of 
Overbury's  sentiments  to  her,  she  is  said  to  have  resolved 
upon  revenge  against  him,  enlisting  Somerset  and  her 
relative,  the  Earl  of  Northampton,  in  her  cause.  (See 
Knight,  vol.  iii.,  pp.  293-306.)  This,  I  say,  is  the  theory, 
but  we  think  the  matter  lay  somewhat  deeper. 

Northampton  is  said  to  have  desired  the  restoration  of 
the  Roman  faith.  He  toward  the  end  of  Elizabeth's  reign 
attached  himself  first  to  Essex  and  afterward  to  Salis- 
bury, and  took  yjart  with  Salisbury  in  the  secret  corre- 
spondence with  James  before  his  coming  to  the  English 
throne.  He  is  said  to  have  been  one  of  the  few  who,  in 
consideration  of  the  services  he  was  able  to  render,  was 
authorized  by  the  authorities  of  the  Roman  Church  to 
pretend  Protestantism  during  the  6rst  years  of  James' 
reign.  See  these  facts  in  the  Britannica  article  on  North- 
ampton. Somerset  was  absorbed  in  Northampton's  influ- 
ence, and  so  favored  a  close  alliance  with  Spain.  But  in 
1614,  and  so  previous  to  these  trials,  Northampton  died. 

AVhile  Overbury  was  in  the  Tower  it  was  that  the  men- 
tioned divorce  proceedings  began,  and  on  pretence  that 
Avith  the  countess  he,  Essex,  was  incapable  of  conjugal 
duties.  Under  a  mask  a  young  virgin  was  substituted, 
it  is  said,  to  undergo  a  legal  inspection  by  a  jury  of 
matrons.  Under  such  proceedings,  and  sustained  by  the 
king,  a  sentence  of  divorce  was  pronounced  ;  and  to  pre- 
vent loss  of  rank  to  the  lady  by  her  now  marriage  with 
Rochester,  the  king  conferred  upon  him  the  title  of  Earl 
of  Somerset,  and  in  1614  he  was  made  Lord  Chamberlain. 
To  Archbishop  Abbott,  who  dared  to  oppose  the  disgrace- 
ful proceedings,  the  king  said  :  "  The  least  thankfulness 
that  you  that  are  so  far  my  creature  can  use  towards  me 
is  to  reverence  and  follow  my  judgment  and  not  to  con- 
tradict it." 


LIFE   OF    BACON.  241 

Among  those  implicated  in  the  murder  was  Sir  Thomas 
Munson,  a  pensioner  of  Spain,  who  had  been  employed  in 
these  affairs  of  Somerset  and  Northampton.  He  was  by- 
Coke  brought  to  the  bar  and  arraigned,  December  _4th, 
1615.  To  Coke's  indiscreet  statement,  made  at  the  time, 
we  have  already  called  attention.  The  king  interposed, 
and  the  matter  was  postponed  until  October,  1616,  when 
he  was  released  from  the  Tower,  and  on  February  12th, 
1616-17,  he  received  the  king's  pardon.  A  little  earlier, 
and  at  about  the  end  of  December,  there  was  talk  abroad 
as  to  a  noted  anonymous  letter  from  Bacon  to  Coke  con- 
cerning these  affairs,  and  which  has  become  known  as 
Bacon's  expostulatory  letter  to  Coke.  Mr.  Spedding 
thinks  the  letter  not  Bacon's.  In  this  we  differ.  From 
the  letter  we  quote  : 

"  In  your  last,  which  might  have  been  your  best,  piece 
of  service  to  the  state,  affectioned  to  follow  that  old  rule 
which  gives  justice  leaden  heels  and  iron  hands,  you  used 
too  many  delays,  till  the  delinquents'  hands  were  loosed 
and  yours  bound  ;  in  that  work  you  seemed  another 
Fabiiis,  where  the  humour  of  Marcellus  would  have  done 
better  :  what  need  you  have  sought  more  evidence  than 
enough  ?  AVhilst  you  pretended  the  finding  out  of  more, 
missing  your  aim,  you  discredited  what  you  had  found. 
This  best  judgments  think  :  though  you  never  used  such 
speeches  as  are  fathered  upon  you,  yet  you  might  well 
have  done  it,  and  but  rightly.  For  this  crime  was  second 
to  none,  but  the  powder-plot  :  that  would  have  blown  up 
all  at  a  blow,  a  merciful  cruelty  ;  this  would  have  done 
the  same  by  degrees,  a  lingering  but  a  sure  way  ;  one 
might  by  one  be  called  out,  till  all  opposers  had  been  re- 
moved. 

"  Besides,  that  other  plot  was  scandalous  to  Rome,  mak- 
ing Popery  odious  in  the  sight  of  the  whole  world  ;  this 
hath  been  scandalous  to  the  truth  of  the  whole  gospel  ;  and 
since  the  first  nullity  to  this  instant,  when  justice  hath  her 
hands  bound,  the  devil  could  not  have  invented  a  more  mis- 
chievous practice  to  our  state  and  church  than  this,  hath 
been,  is  and  is  like  to  be.     Cod  avert  the  evil. 

"  But  herein  you  committed  another  fault  :  that  as 
you  were  too  open  in  your  proceedings,  and  so  taught 
them  thereby  to  defend  themselves  ;  so  you  gave  them 
time  to  undermine  justice,  and  to  work  upon  ail  advan- 


2i2  LIFE    OF    BACOX. 

tages,  both  of  affections,  and  humour,  and  opportunities 
and  breach  of  friendship  ;  which  they  have  so  well  fol- 
lowed sparing  neither  pains  nor  costs,  that  it  almost  seems 
a  higher  offence  in  you  to  have  done  so  much  indeed,  than 
that  you  have  done  no  more  :  you  stop  the  confessions  and 
accusations  of  some,  who,  perhaps,  had  they  been  suffered, 
would  have  spoken  enougli  to  have  removed  some  stum- 
bling blocks  out  of  your  way  ;  and  that  you  did  not  this  in 
the  favour  of  any  one,  but  of  I  know  not  what  present 
unadvised  humour,  supposing  enough  behind  to  discover 
all  ;  which  fell  not  out  so.  However,  as  the  Apostle  says 
in  another  case,  you  '  went  not  right  to  the  truth  ;'  and 
therefore,  though  you  were  to  be  commended  for  what 
you  did,  yet  you  were  to  be  reprehended  for  many  circum- 
stances in  the  doing  ;  and  doubtless  (rod  hath  an  eye  in 
this  cross  to  your  negligence  and  the  briers  are  left  to  be 
pricks  in  your  sides  and  thorns  in  your  eyes." 

j\lr.  Spedding  gives  but  a  portion  of  this  paper.  It  ia 
given  in  full,  \\''orks,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  485-88,  from  which  we 
have  taken  this  quotation.  The  quoted  portion  may  be 
found  in  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  124.  It  is  indeed  an 
important  paper.  It  bears  directly  upon  Bacon's  troubles, 
and  should  be  read. 

We  are  of  the  opinion  that  this  paper  was  sent  by  Bacon 
to  Coke,  and  that  he,  Coke,  himself  gave  it  what  pn!)licity 
it  had,  and  for  the  advantage  it  would  now  yield  him.^  He 
was  at  this  time  sus^^ended  from  his  high  office,  and. 
doubtless,  through  the  influence  of  this,  to  use  his  own 
words,  "wicked  crew,"  and  this  the  mentioned  paper 
informs  him.  Bacon  doubtless  thought  Coke's  egotism 
would  not  permit  him  to  show  the  paper,  it  being  so 
truthful  an  anatomy  of  himself  in  points  not  here  quoted. 
Bacon,  as  well  as  other  men,  must  be  permitted  to  have 
acid,  and  he  evidently  thought  this  a  proper  occasion  to 


1  Coke  had  even  prior  to  his  removal  from  office  sought  to  kiss  the 
king's  hands,  concerning  which  Buckingham,  in  a  letter  to  Bacon, 
dated  October  3d,  1616,  touching  Coke's  removal,  among  other  things, 
says  :  "  Thirdly,  for  that  my  lord  Coke  hath  sought  means  to  kiss 
his  Majesty's  hands  and  withal  to  acquaint  him  with  some  things  of 
great  importance  to  liis  service,  he  hoideth  it  not  fit  to  admit  him  to 
his  presence  before  these  points  be  determined,  because  that  would 
be  a  grant  of  his  pardon  before  he  had  his  trial."  (Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  vi.,  p.  79.) 


LIFE   OF   BACON".  243 

nse  it,  and  to  sliow  Coke  that  learning  may  not  only  be  a 
lark  to  soar,  but  a  hawk  to  strike. 

Touching  the  Overbury  trial,  Knight,  in  his  History  of 
England,  vol.  iii.,  p.  302,  says:  "The  mysteries  which 
were  involved  in  the  death  of  Overbury,  whose  murder 
can  scarcely  be  attributed  solely  to  the  revenge  of  Lady 
Somerset  ;  the  fearful  secrets  which  Somerset  might  have 
revealed  had  he  not  been  assured  of  the  king's  pardon, 
and  of  the  rewards  which  he  afterwards  received— are 
conjectured  to  be  of  a  nature  that  had  better  be  buried 
witii  the  '  carrion '  to  which  they  belong.  That  Somerset 
was  guilty  of  being  accessory  to  the  murder  of  Overbury 
is  very  little  to  be  doubted.  That  the  murder  was  for  the 
concealment  of  some  terrible  secret  can  as  little  be  ques- 
tioned. How  far  James  was  implicated  in  these  dark 
affairs  may  be  better  judged  from  a  careful  perusal  of 
the  great  body  of  evidence  collected  by  Mr.  Amos  than  by 
any  brief  mention  in  this  or  any  other  historical  abstract." 

The  circumstances  preparatory  to  this  trial  were  in 
brief  as  follows  :  one  George  More,  a  kind  of  self  appointed 
lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  though,  in  fact,  acting  under  the 
authority  of  the  king,  as  will  appear  from  the  king's 
letters,  informed  Somerset  that  he  must  the  next  day  go 
to  his  trial,  whereupon  Somerset  absolutely  refused,  and 
said  that  the  king  had  assured  him  he  should  not  come  to 
any  trial,  and  that  the  king  dare  not  bring  him  to  trial. 
Upon  this  More,  late  at  night,  seeks  an  audience  with  the 
king.  What  followed,  as  well  as  the  king's  letters  con- 
nected therewith,  will  appear  in  Knight's  History  of  Eng- 
land, pp.  301-308. 

While  Bacon  was  cognizant  of  the  fact  that  there  were 
involved  in  this  trial  secrets  concerning  which  the  king, 
as  to  himself,  feared  disclosure,  it  is  by  no  means  certain 
that  he  knew  their  true  inwardness  at  this  time,  and  it  is 
probable  that  he  did  not.  There  were,  we  judge,  other 
points  in  the  case  upon  which  Bacon's  eye  was  more 
closely  centred.  This  king's  methods  were  of  a  treacher- 
ous, covert,  and  secret  nature,  better  seen  after  than  dur- 
ing the  transit  of  events.  Even  to  this  day  the  true 
inwardness  of  the  case  is  not  known.  Bacon's  attention 
during  these  years  was  too  largely  absorbed  in  literary  and 
other  work  for  him  to  have  attended  very  closely  to  the 
details  of  the  king's  private  methods.     The  countess  made 


244  LIFE    or    BACON. 

confession  to  the  poisoning,  and  both  she  and  the  earl 
were  found  guilty.  The  countess  was  immediately  par- 
doned and  the  earl  some  time  later.  Upon  this  nobleman, 
James,  in  1609,  conferred  Raleigh's  estate,  and,  it  is  said, 
upon  Salisbury's  advice,  Raleigh  having  been  convicted 
in  1603. 

Bacon,  in  a  letter  to  the  king  in  this  cause,  makes  use 
of  the  word  "  providence"  in  the  same  sense  claimed  in 
earlier  pages,  thus  :  "  Your  Majesty  hath  put  me  upon  a 
work  of  providence  in  this  great  cause,''  etc. 

It  also  has  the  following  :  "  For  certainly  there  may  be 
an  evidence  so  balanced,  as  it  may  have  sufficient  matter  for 
the  conscience  of  the  peers  to  convict  him,  and  yet  leave 
sufficient  matter  in  the  conscience  of  the  king^  upon  the 
same  evidence  to  pardon  his  life  ;  because  the  peers  are 
astringed  by  necessity  either  to  acquit  or  condemn  ;  but 
grace  is  free  ;  and  for  my  part,  I  think  the  evidence  in 
this  present  case  will  be  of  such  a  nature."  (Works,  vol. 
ii.,  p.  329.) 

William  Shakespeare  died  near  the  date  of  this  letter, 
and  on  April  23d,  1616,  while  this  letter  was  written  on 
the  28th,  five  days  later.  Let  it  be  investigated  as  to 
whether  facts  in  this  case  be  found  woven  into  some  later 
play. 

The  king  vi^as  now  somewhat  beneath  the  hatchet. 
Coke's  mining  he  soon  stayed,  however,  by  removing  hira 
from  office.  In  June,  1616,  upon  charges  which  our 
space  will  not  permit  us  here  to  elaborate.  Coke  was  called 
before  the  counsel  and  suspended  from  both  counsel-table 
and  bench,  and  ordered  to  make  correction  of  his  reports 
as  to  claimed  extravagant  opinions.  The  task  not  being 
performed  to  the  king's  satisfaction,  he  was  in  November 
dismissed  from  office,  though  done,  as  one  of  his  cotem- 
poraries  says,  "  as  if  he  meant  to  hang  him  with  a  silken 
halter."  Thus  matters  stood  when  Coke  received  the 
mentioned  expostulatory  letter  from  Bacon,  who  in  it 
tells  him  that  his  trouble  is  all  due  to  his  own  fault  and 
lack  of  discretion.  As  the  proceedings  for  Coke's  removal 
went,  by  reason  of  Bacon's  office,  somewhat  under  his 
eye,  it  seemed,  and  doubtless  in  part  was  so.  Bacon's 
triumph  over  him.     Till  now  Coke  had  led  the  legal  race, 

'  We  are  here  reminded  of  the  words  in  Hamlet,  "  the  play's  the 
thinff  wherein  to  catch  the  conscience  of  the  king." 


LIFE   OF   BACON".  245 

and  sneered  ever  at  Bacon  as  a  mere  pretender  to  law,  and 
whose  entlinsiasm  for  accomplishments  and  polite  learn- 
ing he  despised  utterly.  The  effect  produced  upon  Coke, 
who  regarded  himself  as  the  unique  embodiment  of  Eng- 
lish law,  may  readily  be  imagined,  and  when  later  his 
opportunity  came  for  retaliation  he  put  it  to  full  use. 

From  this  moment  Bacon  was  being  drawn  sharply 
beneath  conflicting  influences  and  such  as  soon  became 
relentless  cords.  The  king,  since  the  dissolution  of  his 
last  Parliament,  to  escape  financial  and  other  difficulties, 
had  sought  a  close  alliance  with  Spain,  Between  the 
years  1G15  and  1616  the  new  favorite,  George  Villiers, 
afterward  Duke  of  Buckingham,  was  being  moved  rapidly 
to  preferment.  The  practices  under  Somerset  had  become 
known  to  Bacon,  and  hence  his  carefully  prepared  letter 
of  advice  to  Villiers  upon  assuming  his  new  relations. 

Early  in  1615  and  during  the  dangerous  illness  of  Lord 
Chancellor  Ellesmere,  Bacon  by  a  carefully  prepared  letter 
to  the  king  proposed  himself  as  Chancellor,  should  that 
office  fall  vacant,  and  reminding  him  of  his  father's  con- 
nection with  it  in  the  former  reign.  (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p. 
10.) 

Referring  in  this  letter  to  Somerset's  methods,  he  says  : 
*'  Upon  this  heavy  accident,'  1  pray  your  majesty  in  all 
humbleness  and  sincerity,  to  give  me  leave  to  use  a  few 
words.    J  must  never  forget,  when  I  moved  your  majesty 

'  Note  througliont  this  use  of  the  word  "heavy,"  as  "  heavy  acci- 
dent," "heavy  ]ud,£?ment,"  "heavy  news."  And  in  the  phiys  it 
will  be  found  variously  woven.  In  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  Act 
iii.,  sc.  2.  p.  197,  we  have  : 

"  D.  Pedro.  Indeed,  that  tells  a  heavy  tale  for  him  : 
Conclude,  conclude,  he  is  in  love." 

In  Macbeth,  Act.  i.,  sc.  3,  p.  251,  we  have  : 

"  Ang.        Who  was  the  thane  lives  yet  ; 
But  under  heavy  judgment  bears  that  life 
"Which  he  deserves  to  lose. ' ' 

In  Hamlet,  Act.  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  315,  we  have  : 

"  King.  O  heavy  deed  !" 

In  Othello,  Act  ii.,  sc.  1,  p.  451,  we  have  : 

"  Des.  O,  heavy  ignorance  !" 

In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  259,  we  have  the  expression  "with 
many  a  heavy  cogitation." 


24G  LIFE    OF    BACOJST. 

for  the  Attorney's  place,  it  was  your  own  sole  act  ;  more 
than  that,  Somerset,  when  he  knew  your  majesty  had  re- 
solved it,  thrust  himself  into  the  business  for  a  fee.  And 
therefore  I  have  no  reason  to  pray  to  saints. 

"  I  shall  now  again  make  oblation  to  your  majesty,  first 
of  my  heart,  then,  of  my  service,  thirdly,  of  my  place  of 
attorney  which  I  think  is  honestly  worth  £6000  per  annum, 
and,  fourthly,  of  my  place  of  the  Star  Chamber,  which  is 
worth  £1600  per  annum  ;  and  Avith  the  favour  and  coun- 
tenance of  a  chancellor,  much  more." 

Through  Villiers  the  place  was  within  three  days  as- 
sured to  him.  The  king's  methods  for  revenue  through 
Somerset  had  not  worked  upon  Bacon  ;  through  Villiers 
they  did,  though  doubtless  Bacon  regarded  these  as  but 
gifts  to  the  king  in  his  now  great  need. 

Villiers,  in  other  words,  the  king,  was  not  only  to  re- 
ceive henceforth  Bacon's  yearly  income  of  £1600  from  the 
Star  Chamber,  but  likewise  his  office  to  dispose  of  else- 
where, as  no  one  from  this  time  forward  was  permitted  to 
hold  footing  in  the  government  of  James  that  did  not  in 
some  way  pay  tribute  to  Buckingham,  the  screen. 

Ellesmere  having  recovered,  the  king  gave  Bacon  the 
option  either  to  be  made  privy  counsellor  or  the  assurance 
of  succeeding  the  Chancellor.  He  chose  the  first  position 
for  reasons  which,  in  a  letter  to  Villiers  June  3d,  he 
states  thus  : 

"Sir:  The  king  giveth  me  a  noble'  choice,' and  you 
are  the  man  my  heart  ever  told  me  you  were.  Ambition 
would  draw  me  to  the  latter  part  of  the  choice  ;  but  in 
respect  to  my  hearty  wishes  that  my  lord  chancellor  may 
live  long,  and  the  small  hopes  I  have,  that  I  shall  live 
long  myself,  and  above  all,  because  I  see  his  majesty's 
service   daily  and    instantly  bleedeth  ;    towards  which  1 

'  Observe  particularly  in  Addison  and  throughout  the  plays  the 
use  of  Bacon's  distinguishing  word  "noble."  From  Addison,  vol. 
iii.,  p.  428,  we  quote  as  follows  :  "  Allegories  when  well  chosen,  are 
like  so  many  tracks  of  light  in  a  discourse,  that  make  everything 
about  them  clear  and  beautiful.  A  noble  metaphor,  when  it  is  placed 
to  an  advantage,  casts  a  kind  of  glory  round  it.  and  darts  a  lustre 
througli  a  whole  sentence  :  these  different  kinds  of  allusion  are  but 
so  many  different  manners  of  similitude,  and,  that  they  may  please 
the  imagination,  the  likeness  ought  to  be  very  exact,  or  very  agree- 
able, as  we  love  to  see  a  picture  where  the  resemblance  is  just,  or 
the  posture  and  air  graceful." 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  247 

persuade  myself  (vainly,  perhaps,  but  yet  in  mine  own 
thoughts  firmly  and  constantly)  that  I  shall  give,  when 
I  am  at  the  table,  some  effectual  furtherance  (as  a  poor 
thread  of  the  labyrinth,  which  hath  no  other  virtue  but  a 
united  continuance,  without  interruption  or  distraction), 
I  do  accept  of  the  former,  to  be  counsellor  for  the  present, 
and  give  over'  pleading  at  bar  ;  let  the  other  matter  rest 
upon  my  proof  and  his  majesty's  pleasure,  and  the  acci- 
dents of  time.  For  to  speak  plainly  I  would  be  loth  that 
my  lord  chancellor,  to  whom  I  owe  most  after  the  king 
and  yourself,  should  be  locked  to  his  successor  for  any 
advancement  or  gracing^  of  me.  So  I  remain,"  etc. 
(Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  49.) 

Bacon  took  his  position  at  the  council-table  June  9th, 
1616,  and  soon  after  presented  the  king  with  his  long- 
meditated  scheme  for  legal  reform  in  a  paper  entitled 
"  A  Proposition  to  his  Majesty  Touching  the  Compiling 
and  Amendment  of  the  Laws  of  England."  (Works, 
vol.  ii.,  pp.  229-33,  or  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  pp. 
61-70.)  This  is  indeed  a  masterly  piece  of  work.  The 
subject  had  been  prominent  in  his  thoughts  since  his  first 
appearance  in  Parliament  in  the  former  reign.  By  the  use 
of  such  words  as  "  sleeping  laws"  and  "snaring  laws" — 
and  see  also  ch.  3,  Book  8  of  the  De  Augmentis — we  are 
reminded  of  the  play  of  "  Measure  for  Measure,"  and 
which  first  appeared  in  the  Great  First  Folio  of  1623. 

The  doings  of  this  year  we  have  somewhat  recounted. 
The  Overbury  trial  is  over,  and  by  the  pardon  of  Munson, 
in  February,  1616-7,  the  king  was  somewhat  relieved, 
and  was  now  preparing  for  an  absence  to  his  native  Scot- 
land, having  first  issued  a  proclamation  ordering  all  of 
the  gentry  of  London  into  the  country.  On  March  14th, 
accompanied  by  Buckingham,  he  quitted  England.  Pre- 
viously, however,  and  on  the  5th  of  the  month,  Ellesmere, 
by  reason  of  health,  age,  and  press  of  business,  resigned 
his  position,  (had  the  king  method  in  this?)  and  two  days 

'  To  this  expression  "  give  over"  we  have  already  called  attention. 

^  As  to  this  use  of  the  word  "  grace,"  we,  from  As  You  Like  It, 
Act  v.,  sc.  2.  p.  241,  quote  the  following  :  "  Know  of  me,  then  (for 
now  I  speak  to  some  purpose),  that  I  know  you  are  a  gentleman  of 
good  conceit  :  I  speak  not  this,  that  you  should  bear  a-good  opinion 
of  my  knowledge,  insomuch,  I  say,  I  know  you  are  ;  neither  do  I 
labour  for  a  greater  esteem  than  may  in  some  little  measure  draw  a 
belief  from  you,  to  do  yourself  good,  and  not  to  grace  me." 


248  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

thereafter,  and  on  March  7th,  1617,  the  great  seal  was 
conferred  upon  Sir  Francis  Bacon,  with  the  title  of  Lord 
Keeper  of  the  Great  Seal  of  England,  that  of  Chancellor 
being  added  in  the  following  January.  Thus  Bacon,  at  the 
age  of  fifty-seven,  reached  the  height  of  his  ambition  in 
civil  affairs.  He  thus  became'the  first  law  officer  of  the 
kingdom,  the  accredited  adviser  of  the  king,  and  on  inti- 
mate terms  with  his  great  favorite,  Villiers,  who  had  in 
the  previous  January  been  created  Earl  of  Buckingham. 

Bacon  had  ever  great  motives  for  seeking  position  ;  for 
nniting  his  will  with  the  royal  will.'  He  sought  not 
merely  to  shape  the  policy  of  England,  but  of  Europe. 
Nay,  more  ;  in  Aph.  129,  Book  ]  of  the  Novum  Organum 
he  says  :  "  It  will,  perhaps,  be  as  well  to  distinguish  three 
species'and  degrees  of  ambition,  First  that  of  men  who 
are  anxious  to  enlarge  their  own  power  in  their  country, 
which  is  a  vulgar  and  degenerate  kind  :  next,  that  of  men 
who  strive  to  enlarge  the  power  and  empire  of  their 
country  over  mankind,  which  is  more  dignified  but  not 
less  covetous  ;  but  if  one  were  to  endeavour  to  renew  and 
enlarge  the  power  and  empire  of  mankind  in  general  over 
the  universe,  such  ambition  (if  it  may  be  so  termed)  is 
both  more  sound  and  more  noble  than  the  other  two. 
Now  the  empire  of  man  over  things  is  founded  on  the  arts 
and  sciences  alone,  for  nature  is  only  to  be  commanded 
by  obeying  her." 

As  he  had  already  recommended  to  the  king  legal  re- 
form, and  in  its  very  roots  and  foundations,  so  now  at  his 
entrance  upon  this  great  office — the  king's  right  arm — he 
sought  to  shape  or  give  direction  to  what  he  regarded  as 
desirable  courses  to  be  pursued  not  only  in  it,  but  in  all 
beneath  it.  This  effort  at  shaping  courses  must  be  taken 
into  account  and  be  looked  at  with  care,  if  we  would  have 
a  true  estimate  of  Lord  Bacon's  character.  His  motives 
and  ends  must  in  a  measure  be  studied  by  looking  some- 
what beneath  the  surface. 

And  so  the  four  charges  which  he  mentions  as  having 
been  given  him  by  the  king  ujion  his  receiving  the  seal 
were  evidently  products  of  his  own  mind  and  pen.  See 
his  speech  in  taking  his  place  in  Chancery.  (Works, 
vol.  ii.,  p.  471.)     This  finding  of  his  j)en  in  other  men's 

'  See  Sonnets  135  and  136,  p.  205. 


LIFE   OF   BACON.  249 

work  has  puzzled  many  as  to  certain  literary  products  dur- 
ing his  period. 

His  duties  as  Lord  Keeper  began  in  May,  when  with 
much  ceremony  he  rode  in  state  to  Westminster,  where, 
being  seated,  he  addressed  the  bar  and  assembled  specta- 
tors by  dilating  generally  upon  the  mentioned  charges 
given  him  by  the  king  upon  receiving  the  seal,  and  stating 
the  manner  in  which  he  pur]>08ed  to  execute  the  trust. 
As  to  the  third  admonition,  concerning  the  speed  of  busi- 
ness, he,  among  other  things,  says  :  "  I  shall  by  the  grace 
of  God,  as  far  as  God  will  give  me  strength  add  the  after- 
noon to  the  forenoon,  and  some  fourth  night  of  the  vaca- 
tion to  the  term,  for  the  expediting  and  clearing  the  causes 
of  the  court  ;  only  the  depth  of  the  three  long  vacations 
I  would  reserve  in  some  measure  free  from  business  of 
state,  and  for  studies,  arts,  and  sciences,  to  which  in  my 
own  nature  I  am  most  inclined." 

And  thus  was  the  empire  of  knowledge  ever  uppermost 
in  this  man's  thoughts,  and  to  advance  which  even  the 
ceremonies  of  this  occasion  were  doubtless  thought  by  him  to 
lend  aid.  He,  in  fact,  in  his  essay  entitled  "  Of  Vainglory" 
says  :  "  In  fame  of  learning  the  flight  will  be  slow  without 
some  feathers'  of  ostentation,"  Bacon  sought  position 
for  the  vantage  ground  which  it  would  yield  him  in 
initiating,  resting,  and  seating  his  great  philosophic  em- 
jDire  in  the  minds  of  men  ;  and  to  which  all  else  was  made 

'  Bacon  made  the  word  "  feather"  a  distinctive  figure  of  speech, 
and  it  may  be  often  found  in  tliis  literature,  and  particularly  in  the 
plays.  Promus,  1217a.  I  do  as  birds  do  for  I  fly  out  of  my 
leathers."  Pronius,  1217.  From  this  your  first  flight,  etc.  In  Love's 
Labour's  Lost,  Act  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  407,  we  have  : 

"  Prin.  What  plume  of  feathers  is  he  that  indicted  this  letter  V" 

In  Hamlet,  Act  ii.,  sc.  2,  p.  258,  we  have  : 

"Ham.  I  will  tell  you  why;  so  shall  my  anticipation  prevent 
your  discovery,  and  your  secrecy  to  the  king  and  queen  moult  no 
feather. ' ' 

And  in  Hamlet,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  293,  we  have  : 

"  Would  not  tliis,  sir,  and  a  forest  of  feathers  (if  the  rest  of  my 
fortunes  turn  Turk  with  me),  with  two  Provincial  roses  on  my  rac'd 
shoes,  get  me  a  fellowship  in  a  cry  of  players,  sir?"  Much  material 
of  this  kind  might  be  introduced  did  space  permit.  In  Atklison, 
vol.  iv.,  p.  214,  we  have  :  "  I  shall  api^ear  at  the  next  masquerade, 
dressed  up  in  my  feathers  and  plumage  like  an  Indian  prince,  that 
the  quality  may  see  how  pretty  they  will  look  in  their  traveling 
habits."     (See  vol.  ii.,  p.  812,  and  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p.  388.) 


250  LIFE   OF   BACON. 

subservient.  He  it  was  who  said  :  "  I  have  raised  up  a 
light  in  the  obscurity  of  philosophy  which  vvill  be  seen 
centuries  wlien  I  am  dead." 

An  account  of  this  first  day's  business  in  court  he  by 
letter  communicated  to  Buckingham,  then  with  the  king 
at  Edinburgh,  saying  :  "  Yesterday  I  took  my  place  in 
chancery,  whicli  I  hold  only  from  the  king's  grace  and 
favour,  and  your  friendship.  There  was  much  ado' 
and  a  great  deal  of  world.  But  this  matter  of  pomp, 
which  is  heaven  to  some  men,  is  hell  to  me,  or  purgatory 
at  least.  It  is  true  I  was  glad  to  see  that  the  king's 
choice  was  so  generally  approved,  and  that  I  had  so  much 
interest  in  men's  good  wills  and  good  opinions,  because  it 
maketh  me  the  fitter  instrument  to  do  my  master's  ser- 
vice and  my  friend's  also."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p. 
194.) 

He  was,  however,  scarcely  warm  in  his  seat  before  cir- 
cnmstances  arose  which  called  for  oi)inions  and  actions 
likely  to  at  once  involve  him  in  great  difficulties  with  the 
king,  and  soon  with  both  the  king  and  Buckingham.  As 
remarked,  the  king  was  now  seeking  a  close  alliance  with 
Spain.  Before  his  departure  into  Scotland  he  had  ap- 
pointed commissioners  to  manage  a  marriage  treaty  be- 
tween his  son.  Prince  Charles,  and  the  Infanta  of  Spain. 
Bacon,  ever  jealous  for  the  Eeformed  faith,  and  remember- 
ing, doubtless,  the  days  of  Mary  Tudor  and  later  those  of 
Philip,  her  husband,  advised  the  king  against  proceeding 
with  the  treaty,  and  set  forth  the  difficulties  that  had 
already  been  experienced  from  disunited  counsel.  (Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  170.)  The  step  was  against  the  de- 
cided sentiment  of  the  people,  as  the  king  well  knew,  and 
his  council  did  not  purpose  to  have  it  go  forward,  though 
they  dare  not  openly  oppose  it  ;  nor  did  they  know  well 
how  to  avert  it,  if  it  was  really  intended  by  Spain,  which 
some  of  them  much  doubted.  Bacon  had  as  early  as 
March  23d,  concerning  the  instructions  to  be  given  to  Sir 
John  Digby,  who  had  the  matter  in  charge,  recommended 
that  the  two  countries  should  take  into  account  in  this 
marriage  treaty  the  subject  of  a  war  against  the  Turks. 
He  says  :    "  Also,   that  it  may  be  a  beginning  and  seed 

'  This  expression  "  much  ado"  is  found  in  every  phase  of  these 
writings.  And  in  Tlie  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  274,  we  have  :  "  I 
had  much  ado  to  forbear  crying  out,  undone  !"     And  see  p.  319. 


LIFE    OF   BACON".  251 

(for  the  like  acHons  before  have  had  less  beginnings)  of  a 
holy  war  against  the  Turk/  wherennto  it  seems  the  events 
of  time  doth  invite  Christian  kings,  in  respect  of  the  great 
corruption  and  relaxation  of  discipline  of  war  in  that  em- 
j)ire  ;  and  much  more  in  respect  of  the  utter  ruin  and 
enervation  of  the  Grand  Signor's  navy  and  forces  by  sea  ; 
which  openeth  a  way  (without  congregating  vast  armies 
by  land)  to  suffocate  and  starve  Constantinople,  and 
thereby  to  put  those  provinces  into  mutiny  and  insurrec- 
tion."    (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  158.) 

And  what  did  Overbury  really  know?  The  question  of 
this  marriage  alliance  was  first  moved  by  Spain  imme- 
diately after  the  treaty  of  peace  with  England  in  August, 
1604,  and  upon  condition  that  James'  eldest  son.  Prince 
Henry,  then  a  little  boy,  should  not  only  be  brought  up  a 
Catholic,  but  sent  to  Madrid  for  his  education.  What  a 
proposition  to  a  Protestant  king  !  The  terms  were  not, 
of  course,  accepted,  and  the  Gunpowder  Plot  followed  in 
October.  After  the  dissolution  of  Parliament,  in  1610, 
it  was  moved  by  James  himself,  and  with  the  view,  it  is 
said,  of  relieving  his  exchequer  by  the  marriage  portion. 
As  it  could  be  accomplished  only  upon  the  conditions 
mentioned,  it  was  again  broken  off.  No  better  results 
having  been  obtained  from  his  next  Parliament,  James 
began  to  show  his  intentions,  and  at  the  end  of  1614 
Digby  was  sent  to  Madrid  to  manage  the  negotiation  ;  and 
in  March,  1615,  KSpanish  proposals  Avere  embodied  in  a 
series  of  articles  as  a  basis  of  negotiation.  At  this  junc- 
ture Mr.  Spedding  says  :  "  Somerset,  in  whom,  with  Sir 
Eobert  Cotton  as  an  ally,  Gondomar  fancied  he  had  found 
the  very  instrument  he  wanted  for  the  conversion  of  Eng- 
land, was  arrested  on  a  charge  of  complicity  in  the  murder 
of  Overbury,  and  disappeared  from  the  stage,  not  to  appear 
again."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  146.) 

Aside  from  the  negotiations  going  forward  through 
Digby,  it  seems  that  there  was  a  side  issue  through  Somer- 

'  This  was  one  of  Bacon's  life  aims,  as  may  be  seen  not  merely  in 
a  later  paper  entitled  The  Holy  War,  but  in  the  Serious  Reflections 
of  Robinson  Crusoe.  We  think  he  may  have  moved  it  at  this  time, 
however,  in  order  to  break  relations  as  to  this  marriage  treaty.  In 
every  phase  of  his  doings  Bacon  will  be  found  to  have  stood  like  an 
oak,  and  even  in  subtlety,  in  support  of  the  Reformed  faith.  He 
was  more  quickly  aroused  at  this  point  than  at  any  other,  as  we 
shall  see. 


252  LIFE    OF    BACON". 

set,  and  known  to  the  king.  Digby  received  messages 
showing  that  Somerset  \vas  having  some  underhand  deal- 
ing in  the  matter  with  the  Spanish  ambassador,  and  in 
this  way  the  matter  was  brought  to  light.  Overbury 
through  Somerset  was  fully  cognizant  of  the  inwardness 
of  this  business.  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  v.,  pj).  233, 
2G2-69,  312.) 

The  forces  here  at  work  against  England's  Protestant- 
ism were  met,  we  think,  by  Bacon's  greatest  subtlety,  and 
as  well  toward  the  king  as  others.' 

Coke  now  during  the  king's  absence  submissively  ap- 
plied himself  to  Secretary  Winwood  to  be  restored  to  favor. 
Previously  he  had  rejected  with  scorn,  but  now  favored,  a 
proposed  marriage  alliance  between  his  daughter  Frances 
and  Buckingham's  brother,  Sir  John  Villiers.  Winwood 
favored  the  alliance,  but  Coke's  wife,  Lady  Hatton,  and 
upon  whom  the  young  lady's  fortune  chiefly  depended, 
most  bitterly  opposed  it.  But,  again,  Buckingham's 
mother.  Lady  Compton,  approved  it,  and  a  furious  quarrel 
ensued.  Lady  Hatton  took  the  daughter,  who  is  said  to 
have  been  little  more  than  a  child,  into  the  country. 
Coke  with  his  son.  Fighting  Clem,  as  he  was  called,  and 
with  ten  or  twelve  servants  pursued  her  with  a  warrant 
from  Secretary  Winwood,  Bacon  having  refused  it.  She 
was  found  ;  the  door  of  the  residence  was  forced  violently 
open,  and  the  young  lady  into  Coke's  carriage.  Lady 
Hatton  rushed  now  to  the  Lord  Keeper  Bacon  for  help, 
and  from  a  brief  account  of  the  affair  in  Bacon's  Letters, 
vol,  vi,,  p.  225,  we  quote  as  follows  :  "  After  an  overturn 
by  the  way  '  at  last  to  my  Lord  Keeper's  they  came,  but 
could  not  have  instant  access  to  him,  for  that  his  people 
told  them  he  was  laid  at  rest,  being  not  well.  Then  my 
La.  Hatton  desired  she  might  be  in  the  next  room  where 
my  Lord  lay,  that  she  might  be  the  first  that  [should]  speak 
with  him  after  he  was  stirring.  The  door-keeper  fulfilled 
her  desire,  and  in  the  mean  time  gave  her  a  chair  to  rest 
herself  in,  and  there  left  her  alone  :  but  not  long  after, 
she  rose  up  and  bounced  against  my  Lord  Keeper's  door, 
and  waked  him  and  affrighted  him,  that  he  called  his 
men  to  him  ;  and  they  opening  the  door,  she  thrust  in 

'  And  hence  we  need  not  wonder  at  the  remark  in  his  expostulatory 
letter  to  Coke  that  the  success  of  the  Gunpowder  Plot  would  have 
been  but  a  "  merciful  cruelty." 


LIFE    OF   BACON.  253 

with  them,  and  desired  his  Lp.  to  pardon  her  boldness, 
but  she  was  like  a  cow  that  had  lost  her  calf,  and  so  justi- 
fied [hersell"]  and  pacified  my  Lord's  anger,  and  got  his 
warrant  and  my  Lo.  Treasurer's  warrant  and  others  of  the 
Council  to  fetch  her  daughter  from  the  father  and  bring 
them  both  to  the  Council.'  " 

Both  parties  were  by  the  court  compelled  to  keep  the 
peace,  and  the  young  lady  was  for  the  present  taken  from 
the  raging  parents.  Bacon,  it  seems,  had  at  first  supposed 
the  matter  to  be  but  an  affair  between  Coke  and  Win- 
wood,  and  so  at  once,  July  12th,  wrote  to  Buckingham 
and  entreated  him  to  put  an  end  to  the  affair.  He  also 
wrote  the  king  on  the  25th.     (Works,  vol.  iii.,  pp.  77,  78.) 

Coke  in  the  mean  time  was  ordered  by  the  Council  be- 
fore the  Star  Chamber  "  for  riot  and  force,"  to  "  be  heard 
and  sentenced  as  justice  should  appertain."  Neither 
Bacon  nor  the  Council  apparently  to  this  time  had  a 
doubt  but  that  they  were  doing  what  the  king  would 
approve.  Buckingham  for  a  time  remained  silent,  his 
silence  being  followed  by  several  haughty  and  bitter  let- 
ters. Bacon  in  the  mean  time  had  not,  so  far  as  appears, 
done  aught  but  duty,  either  as  friend,  counsellor,  or 
judge  ;  yet  he  was  now  upon  the  very  edge  not  merely  of 
losing  his  high  ofhce,  but  he  knew  not  what.  He  seems 
to  have  been  amazed  to  find  that  both  the  king  and  Buck- 
ingham were  for  the  match,  and  that  the  proceedings  of 
the  Council  were  condemned  as  gross  misconduct.  In 
one  of  Buckingham's  letters  it  appears  that  the  king  even 
threatened  to  put  "  some  public  exemplary  mark"  upon 
Bacon,  and  Buckingham  is  said  to  have  gone  so  far  as  to 
accuse  Bacon  with  having  been  unfaithful  to  Essex,  to 
Somerset — for  whom  he  never  professed  friendship — and 
now  to  himself.  Coke  had  seen  the  king  during  his  ab- 
sence, and  went  to  meet  him  upon  his  return.  Had  the 
king  seen  the  mentioned  expostulatory  letter  ?  The 
transaction  seems,  for  some  reason  not  apparent,  to  have 
been  loaded  with  a  severity  entirely  inadequate  and  un- 
necessary, and  to  have  terminated  in  a  kind  of  submission 
on  Bacon's  part  bordering  somewhat  upon  servility.  But 
it  must  be  remembered  that  his  own  great  purposes  were 
not  yet  accomplished,  and  he  was  ever  more  attentive  to 
his  ends  than  to  his  mere  will.  Again,  he  saw  that  his 
country,   if  ever,   now  needed  his  services.     The  matter 


354  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

ended  in  the  gracing  of  Coke.  This  Bacon  had  feared, 
though  he  chiims  to  have  feared  it  only  by  reason  of  again 
restoring  discord  in  council.  Coke,  on  September  28th, 
was  restored  to  the  council-table,  and  the  daughter  on  the 
29th  was  married  to  the  brother  of  the  great  favorite,  a 
man  whom  she  detested,  whom  she  loathed.  Tlie  result 
was  the  abandonment  of  the  husband  and  the  fall  of  the 
wife. 

Coke  and  Bacon  had  now  both  been  awed,  and  as  in- 
tended, doubtless,  left  somewhat  beneath  the  whips  of 
power.  Bacon's  talent  was  wanted,  but  it  was  wanted 
only  in  the  line  of  the  king's  own  purposes.  Bucking- 
ham, the  screen,  now  became  troublesome  to  Bacon  in 
many  ways,  and  he  seems  able  to  retain  his  office  only  by 
further  tribute,  as  will  appear  from  the  following  New 
Year's  letter  by  Bacon  to  Buckingham  in  1618  : 

"  My  very  good  Loud  :  Sir  George  Chaworth  and  I 
am  agreed,  so  that  now  I  shall  retain  the  grace  of  my 
place,  and  yet  be  rewarded.  The  King  hath  no  ill  bar- 
gain ;  for,  he  hath  four  times  as  much  as  he  was  offered 
by  Sir  George,  of  increase  ;  and  yet  1  take  npon  me  to 
content  my  servants,  and  to  content  him.  Nevertheless, 
I  shall  think  myself  pleasured  by  his  majesty,  and  do 
acknowledge,  that  your  lordship  hath  dealt  very  honourably 
and  nobly  with  me."     (Bacon's  letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  286.) 

Many  of  these  gracious  sayings  of  Bacon  will  be  found 
to  be  subtle  shots  at  the  quick  of  conscience  of  those  deal- 
ing unjustly  by  him.  Hamlet's  words  to  Polonius  seem 
to  represent  his  methods  wherein  he  says  :  "  Use  every 
man  after  his  desert,  and  who  shall  'scape  whipping  !  Use 
them  after  your  own  honour  and  dignity  :  the  less  they 
deserve,  the  more  merit  is  in  your  bounty." 

Tliinking,  perhaps,  to  have  Bacon  now  more  to  his  pur- 
poses, the  king,  and  by  reason  of  the  mentioned  tribute, 
early  in  January  conferred  upon  him  the  additional  office 
of  Chancellor,  and  in  July,  and  as  part  of  the  same  ar- 
rangement, the  honorary  title  of  Baron  Verulem.  Bacon 
was  now  at  work  with  all  diligence  upon  matters  concern- 
ing the  king's  revenue  and  retrenching  of  the  expenses  of 
the  kingdom.  It  was  hoped  that  Raleigli's  voyage  would 
add  something  to  the  Exchequer.  He  sailed  from  Ply- 
mouth June  12th,   1617.     The  voyage  proved  a  failure, 


LIFE    OF    BACON". 


255 


and  by  reason  of  certain  Spanish  charges  he,  on  October 
23d,  1618,  received  notice  to  prepare  for  death. 

During  the  summer  of  this  year  the  revolt  broke  out  in 
Bohemia,  and  which  was  the  commencement  of  the  Thirty 
Years'  War  Bacon  favored  the  war  with  Spam  for  its 
recovery,  but  the  king  opposed  it.  Though  charges  of 
corruption  in  office  were  the  occasion,  still  the  subtle 
cause  of  Bacon's  overthrow  took  deeper  its  roots,  as  we 
shall  see,  and  he  was  as  truly  a  sacrifice  to  Spam,  or  to 
Spanish  influence,  as  was  Raleigh. 

In  the  following  year,  1619,  Buckingham  was  raised  by 
the  king  to  the  office  of  Lord  High  Admiral  of  England, 
and  was  pursuing  courses  which  Bacon  thought  dangerous, 
and  particularly  to  the  Reformed  faith.  In  his  letter  ot 
advice  to  him,'  upon  his  becoming  the  king's  favorite, 
Bacon  said  :  "  Take  heed,  I  beseech  you,  that  you  be  not  an 
instrument  to  countenance  the  Roman  Catholics.  I  can- 
not flatter,  the  world  believes  that  some  near  m  blood  to 
you  are  too  much  of  that  persuasion  ;  you  must  use  them 
with  fit  respects,  according  to  the  bonds  of  nature  ;  but 
you  are  of  kin,  and  so  a  friend  to  their  persons,  not  to 
their  errors."     (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  377.) 

This  year  first  appeared  the  A.  D.  B.  Mask.  It  was 
dedicated  to  Buckingham  in  words  of  fulsome  uncertainty, 
and  the  work,  as  we  view  it,  contains  covert  warnings  as 
to  courses  now  being  pursued  by  him,  and  with  the  evident 
desiR-n  to  stay  those  courses.  Buckingham  at  first  pre- 
tended to  be  with  the  popular  movement,  but  before  tlie 
summer  of  1620  had  ended  he  was  found  in  the  closest 
alliance  with  Gondomar,  and  was  recklessly  pursuing,  as 
the  events  will  show,  the  already  mentioned  Spanish  mar- 
riao-e  alliance.  He  had  himself  in  the  previous  year  been 
maT-ried  to  the  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Rutland,  a  lady 
known  to  be  at  heart  a  Roman  Catholic,  and  for  a  time 
both  his  and  the  king's  influence  went  wholly  in  that 
direction,  and  to  the  great  fear  and  discomfiture  of  a  large 
portion  of  the  English  people.  _ 

James  at  once  denied  his  son-m-law's  title  as  Kmg  of 
Bohemia,  and  forbade  him  to  be  prayed  for  as  such  m  the 
churches.  Knight,  in  his  History  of  England,  vol.  in., 
p.  313,  says  :  .      . 

"  The  Elector  Palatine,  after  some  hesitation,  accepted 
the  dangerous  promotion,  and  was  crowned  at  Prague,  in 


256  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

Nov.  1619.  The  resolve  was  the  signal  for  a  general  array 
of  hostile  forces  throughout  Europe.  The  great  battle  of 
Protestantism  and  Catholicism  appeared  once  more  likely 
to  be  fought  out.  Had  Elizabeth  been  alive  she  would 
have  thrown  all  her  force  into  the  conflict.  Jatnes  at  first 
refused  to  give  any  assistance  to  his  son-in-law.  The 
Protestants  of  England  were  aroused  to  an  enthusiasm 
which  had  been  repressed  for  years.  They  saw  the  armies 
of  Austria  and  Spain  gathering  to  snatch  the  crown  from 
the  elective  King  of  Bohemia,  and  to  invade  the  Palati- 
nate. They  saw  many  of  the  Protestant  princes  forming  a 
union  for  his  defence.  Volunteers  were  ready  to  go  forth 
from  England,  full  of  zeal  for  the  support  of  the  elector. 
James  was  professing  an  ardent  desire  to  Protestant  depu- 
ties to  assist  his  son-in-law  ;  and  at  the  same  time  vowing 
to  the  Spanish  am])assador  that  the  alliance  with  his 
Catholic  majesty,  which  was  to  be  cemented  by  the  mar- 
riage of  Prince  Charles  to  the  Infanta,  was  the  great  de- 
sire of  his  heart.  At  length  the  Catholic  powers  entered 
the  Palatinate  ;  and  the  cry  to  arms  was  so  loud  amongst  the 
English  and  the  Scotch,  that  James  reluctantly  marshalled 
a  force  of  four  thousand  volunteers,  not  to  support  his 
son-in-law  upon  the  throne  of  Bohemia,  but  to  assist  in 
defending  his  hereditary  dominions.  The  scanty  assist- 
ance came  too  late.  Frederick  was  defeated  by  the  Aus- 
triaus  at  Prague,  on  the  7th  of  Nov.  1620,  which  decisive 
battle  entirely  destroyed  his  slight  tenure  of  power  in 
Bohemia.  He  was  very  shortly  after  driven  from  the 
Palatinate  which  was  handed  over  to  the  tender  mercies 
of  the  conquerors.  The  supporters  of  the  elector  in 
Bohemia,  a  country  which  had  been  the  refuge  of  perse- 
cuted reformers,  were  trodden  down  by  the  iron  heel  of 
Austria.  The  Puritan  party  in  England  considered  this 
misfortune  as  '  the  greatest  blow  which  the  Church  of  God 
had  received,  since  the  first  Reformation  by  Martin  Luther 
in  1517.'  The  union  of  the  Protestant  princes  was  broken 
up.  '  The  Catholic  principle  passed  with  wonderful 
rapidity  from  a  moment  of  the  utmost  danger  to  an  omnip- 
otent sway  over  the  south  of  Germany  and  the  Austrian 
provinces.' 

*'  It  was  during  the  excitement  of  this  conflict,  and  in 
the  month  following  the  victory  of  the  Austrians  at 
Prague,  that  James  adopted  one  of  those  arbitrary  meas- 


LIFE    OF    BACOIST.  257 

nres  which  weak  governments  resort  to  in  their  imbecile 
desire  to  control  public  opinion.  On  the  27th  of  Decem- 
ber, says  D'Ewes,  '  I  saw  and  perused  a  proclamation  set 
out  by  his  majesty  inhibiting  or  forbidding  any  of  his  sub- 
jects to  discourse  of  state-matters,  either  foreigu  or  domes- 
tic ;  which  all  men  conceived  to  have  been  procured  by  the 
count  of  Gondomar,  the  Spanish  ambassador.'  " 

But  if  James  covertly  entertained  the  thought  of  return- 
ing England  to  the  old  faith,  as  did  later  his  grandson, 
James  the  Second,  he  dare  not  brave  the  fire  which  he  now 
saw  kindling  for  the  new. 

Thus  matters  stood  when,  on  January  22d,  1620,  sur- 
rounded by  admiring  friends.  Bacon  celebrated  his  six- 
tieth birthday  at  York  House,  the  place  of  his  birth,  and 
Avhere  his  father  before  him  as  Lord  Keeper  had  lived. 
And  in  October  appeared  his  crovaiing  literary  work,  the 
Novum  Organum,  and  concerning  which,  and  with  the 
hope  of  obtaining  aid  in  the  work,  he  wrote  thus  to  the 
king  : 

"  It  may  please  your  most  excellp:nt  Majesty  : 
It  being  a  thing  to  speak  or  write,  especially  to  a  king  in 
public,  another  in  private  ;  although  I  have  dedicated  a 
work,  or  rather  a  portion  of  a  work,  which  at  last,  I  have 
overcome,  to  your  majesty,  by  a  punic  epistle  where  I 
speak  to  you  in  the  hearing  of  others  ;  yet  I  thought  fit 
also  humbly  to  seek  access  for  the  same,  not  so  much  to 
your  person,  as  to  your  judgment,  by  these  private  lines. 

"  The  work,  in  what  colours  soever  it  may  be  set  forth, 
is  no  more  but  a  new  logic,  teaching  to  invent  and  judge 
by  induction,  as  finding  syllogism  incompetent  for  sciences 
of  nature  ;  and  thereby  to  make  philosophy  and  sciences 
both  more  true  and  more  active. 

"  This  tending  to  enlarge  the  bounds  of  reason,  and  to 
endow  man's  estate  with  new  value,  was  no  improper  obla 
tion'  to  your  majesty,  who  of  men  is  the  greatest  master  of 
reason  and  author  of  beneficence. 

'This  word  "oblation"  is  spread  quite  generally  ia  this  litera- 
ture. In  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  339,  we  have  :  "  When  he  is  making 
his  oblations  at  the  temple,  he  will  let  the  dish  drop  out  of  his  liand, 
and  fall  a  laughing,  as  if  he  had  done  some  brave  exploit."  In 
Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre,  Act  v.,  sc.  3,  p.  383,  we  have  : 
"  Per.  Pure  Diana  ! 

I  bless  thee  for  thy  vision,  and  will  offer 
My  night  oblations  to  thee." 
9 


258  LIFE    OF   B.VCON. 

"  There  he  two  of  your  council,  and  one  other  bishop 
of  this  land,  that  know  1  have  been  about  some  such  work 
near  thirty  years  ;'  so  as  I  made  no  haste.  And  the  reason 
"why  I  have  published  it  now,  especially  being  unperfect, 
is,  to  speak  plainly,  because  I  number  my  days,  and  would 
have  it  saved.  There  is  another  reason  of  my  so  doing, 
whick  is  to  try  whether  I  can  get  help  in  one  intended 
part  of  this  work,  namely,  the  compiling  of  a  natural  and 
experimental  history,  which  must  be  the  main  foundation 
of  a  true  and  active  philosophy. 

"  This  work  is  but  a  new  body  of  clay,  whereunto  your 
majesty,  by  your  countenance  and  protection,  may  breathe 
life.  And  to  tell  your  majesty  truly  what  I  think,  1  ac- 
count your  favour  may  be  to  this  Avork  as  much  as  a  hun- 
dred years'  time  :  for  I  am  persuaded  the  work  will  gain 
upon  men's  minds  in  ages,  but  your  gracing  it  may  make 
it  take  hold  more  swiftly  ;  which  I  would  be  very  glad  of, 
it  being  a  work  meant,  not  for  praise  or  glory,  but  for 
practice  and  the  good  of  men.  One  thing  I  confess,  I  am 
ambitious  of,  with  hope,  which  is,  that  after  these  begin- 
nings, and  the  wheel  once  set  on  going,  men  shall  seek 
more  truth  out  of  Christian  pens  than  hitherto  they  have 
done  out  of  heathen,  I  say  with  hope,  because  I  hear  my 
former  book  of  the  Advancement  of  Learning,  is  well 
tasted  in  the  universities  here,  and  the  English  colleges 
abroad  :  and  this  is  the  same  argument  sunk  deeper. 

"  And  so  I  ever  humbly  rest  in  prayers,  and  all  other 
duties,  etc.  York  House  this  12th  of  Oct.,  1G20." 
(Works,  vol  iii.,  p.  129.) 

We  understand  the  basal  idea  of  the  Novum  Organum 
to  be,  that  the  particulars  of  knowledge  viewed  relation- 
ally  yield  light  in  and  of  themselves  to  the  mind,  in  that 
thus  standing  before  attention,  they  yield  the  knowing 
faculty  new  products  or  conclusions  ;  and  hence  the  reach- 
ing of  discoveries  before  unknown.     The  conclusions  are 

'  From  those  great  satires,  Gulliver's  Travels,  p.  222,  we  quote  as 
follows  :  "I  had  hitherto  seen  only  one  side  of  the  academy,  the 
other  being  appropriated  to  the  advancers  of  speculative  learning,  of 
M'hom  I  shall  say  something,  w^htn  I  have  mentioned  one  illustrious 
person  more,  who  is  called  among  them  '  the  vmiversal  artist.'  He 
told  us  '  he  had  been  thirty  years  employing  his  thoughts  for  the 
improvement  of  human  life.'"  Note  at  p.  216  that  this  academy 
of  Lacado  was  an  academy  of  projectois,  and  see  the  opening  words 
of  ch.^6,  p.  225. 


LIFE    OF    BACOX.  259 

not  that  which  is  viewed.  While  dwelling  in  attention 
we  dwell  in  the  field  of  invention,  in  the  field  from  which 
spontaneity  or  inventions  spring  ;  and  this  field,  as  de- 
scribed by  Bacon,  is  the  field  of  natural  magic.  In  this 
field  the  will  has  no  part,  save  that  of  directing  the  atten- 
tion or  mental  energies.  To  this  extent  and  to  this  ex- 
teat  only  may  our  thoughts  be  said  to  be  under  our  con- 
trol, or  ours.  The  will  may  apply  honey  to  the  tongue, 
but  there  its  power  ceases,  and  the  effect,  the  product,  the 
sweetness,  is  wholly  independent  of  it.  Not  only  tiiis,  but 
the  product  is  unlike  the  thing  itself.  We  may  o'ermaster 
the  spontaneous  shiftings  of  the  globes  of  vision,  but  once 
set  no  power  of  the  will  or  shifting  force  can  either  pro- 
duce or  prevent  the  retinal  effects— in  other  words,  the 
products  to  the  mind.  The  products  themselves,  both 
objective  and  subjective,  of  mind,  spring  ever  indepen- 
dently of  the  will  ;  and  hence  the  field  of  the  divine  and 
the  field  of  the  human  provision  or  providence.  This 
human  providence  is  wise  or  unwise  according  as  we  may 
choose  to  set  and  hold  the  mental  energies  to  wise  or 
unwise  courses.  As  applied  to  science,  this,  as  we  under- 
stand it,  is  the  first  stage  of  Bacon's  methods  of  schooling 
wisely  the  intellect  to  external  relations,  purging  first 
from  the  mind  its  idols.  From  this  stage  selected  particu- 
lars of  knowledge  may  be  tabled,  and  they  so  standing  and 
viewed  relationally  again  yield  new  and  higher  light. 
Thus  the  objective  or  outlying  world,  by  a  wise  choice, 
and  within  the  range  of  experience,  becomes  transfigured  or 
subjectively  knit,  in  its  just  relations  to  the  mental  texture, 
so  to  speak,  and  thus  is  formed  in  the  sensibility  the  very 
substance,  body,  ground  ;  or,  as  it  were,  the  very  earth, 
air,  sea,  and  sky,  so  to  speak,  ready  for  subjective  evolu- 
tion or  recall.  But  mere  memory,  the  possibility  of  recall, 
may  draw  from  experience  only.  Imagination  may  do 
more.  It  may  not  merely  from  the  sensibility  recall  out- 
lines, boundaries,  forms,  and  relations  once  experienced 
to  present  consciousness,  but  by  its  own  kaleidoscopic 
combinings  or  creative  evolutions,  as  evidenced  in  dream 
life,  it  may  create  or  produce  wholly,  vividly,  and  in- 
stantly anew,  and  beyond  and  different  from  that  ever 
before  experienced  in  the  sensibility.  With  care  do  we 
chose  here  our  words.  Imagination  may  feebly  do  this  in 
the  second,  the  subjective  wakeful  state  of  the  mind,  by 


260  LIFE    OF   BACON". 

the  dwelling  of  attention  subjectively  upon  known  rela- 
tions. But  the  mind  can  never  normally  in  this  second 
state,  as  it  may  in  the  third  or  dream  life,  have  active 
perceptions  of  objects  and  relations,  nor  may  it  ever  nor- 
mally during  wakefulness,  unless  such  objects  and  rela- 
tions are  present  to  sense.  This  can  normally  arise  during 
wakefulness  only  in  the  first,  or  purely  objective  state  of 
the  mind,  when  in  relation  with  the  outer  world  of  sense.' 
Science  fails  utterly  to  show  us  how,  in  this  third  state 
or  stage  of  the  mind,  it  may  have  active  perceptions  with- 
out physical  objects,  and  which  stage  is  and  can  be  reached 
normaily  only  when  the  objective  nerve  centres  have 
found  repose — that  is,  been  locked  to  external  relations. 
How,  for  instance,  may  the  mind  in  this  state  be  so 
vividly  conscious  of  definite  objects  of  sight,  and  even  of 
those  never  beheld  during  wakefulness  without  the  physi- 
cal rays  of  light  and  the  particular  physical  object  being 
present  to  the  retina?  And  as  to  this,  so  of  the  other 
senses.  Sight  is  a  species  of  touch  through  a  purposely 
devised  organ.  Can  the  objects  of  sight,  then,  in  this 
state  rest  in  material  change  or  effects  upon  the  retina  ; 
in  other  words,  in  sensations  ?  We  here  reach  the  deep- 
est mysteries  of  mind,  and  which  hitherto  have  been  but 
feebly  or  but  partially  explored.     In  this  field  Bacon  him- 

'  Yet  in  the  repose  of  sleep,  with  the  external  avenues  to  sense 
closed,  with  no  physical  object  presented  to  the  retina  of  the  eye,  no 
sound  to  the  ear,  smell,  touch,  or  taste  presented  to  the  conscious- 
ness, the  mental  world  thus  without  aid  of  external  sense  may  live 
a  full  rounded  life  of  most  vivid  consciousness  as  to  objects  and  re- 
lations and  even  amid  those  never  before  experienced.  The  spirit 
now  during  the  repose  of  its  instrument,  the  body,  may  be  up  and 
active,  and  in  full  relations  either  of  antics,  business,  or  pleasure. 
It  may  live  and  meander  amid  beautiful  scenery.  It  may  discourse 
of  the  objects  before  it— the  rising  sun,  the  sky,  the  landscape,  the 
delicacy  of  fruits,  or  the  fragrance  of  flowers  ;  and  this  to  faces 
never  beheld  during  wakefulness.  Sadness  in  turn  may  visit  it,  and 
it  may  awake  in  a  flood  of  tears,  thus  showing  that  it  has  been 
passing  through  active  experiences,  the  eflFects  of  which  no  amount 
of  mere  thinking  during  wakefulness  could  produce,  and  so  vivid, 
perhaps,  as  to  require  moments  of  reflection  to  determine  that  the 
experience  was  really  a  dream,  and  this  done  only  by  the  surround- 
ing conditions  of  wakefulness.  These  thoughts  are  not  matters  of 
fancy,  but  facts  more  or  less  familiar  to  the  consciousness  of  every 
individual.  And  if  these  things  may  take  place  without  aid  from 
the  senses,  the  thought  naturally  suggests  itself,  May  they  not  when 
their  sum — the  body — is  dropped  altogether  ? 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  261 

self  recommends  further  exploration.  But  for  the  particu- 
lar views  here  expressed  we  hold  ourselves  responsible. 
From  his  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  pp.  1-5,  we  quote  an  able 
article  upon  the  subject,  and  which  is  in  these  words  : 

"  Though  there  are  many  authors  who  have  written  on 
dreams,  they  have  genei'ally  considered  them  only  as 
revelations  of  what  has  already  happened  in  distant  parts 
of  the  world,  or  as  passages'  of  what  is  to  happen  in  future 
periods  of  time. 

"  I  shall  consider  this  subject  in  another  light,  as 
dreams  may  give  us  some  idea  of  the  great  excellency  of 
a  human  soul,  and  some  intimations  of  its  independency 
on  matter.' 

"In  the  first  place,  our  dreams  are  great  instances  of 
that  activity  which  is  natural  to  the  human  soul,  and 
which  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  sleep  to  deaden  or  abate. 
When  the  man  appears  tired  and  worn  out  with  hibours 
of  the  day,  this  active  part  of  his  composition  is  still 
busied  and  unwearied,.  When  the  organs  of  sense  want 
their  due  repose  and  necessary  reparations,  and  the  body 
is  no  longer  able  to  keep  pace  with  that  spiritual  sub- 
stance^ to  which  it  is  united,  the  soul  exerts  herself  in  her 
several  faculties,  and  continues  in  the  action  till  her 
partner  is  again  qualified  to  bear  her  company.     In  this 

'  This  use  of  the  word  "  passages"  and  the  expression  "  passages 
of  action"  is  distinctively  Baconian.  Bacon  says  :  "  The  govern- 
ment of  the  Soul  in  moving  the  Body  is  inward  and  profound,  and 
the  passages  thereof  hardly  to  be  reduced  to  demonstration."  (Phil. 
Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  474.)  "  For  as  in  buildings  there  is  great  pleasure 
and  use  in  the  well  casting  of  the  stair-cases,  entries,  doors,  windows, 
and  the  like  ;  so  in  speech  the  conveyances  and  passages  are  of 
special  ornament  and  effect."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  413.) 
"  And  though  he  had  fine  passages  of  action,  yet  the  real  conclusions 
came  slowly  on."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iv.,  p.  280.)  And  in  sub. 
326  of  his  Natural  History  he  says  :  "  But  we,  when  we  shall  come 
to  handle  the  version  and  transmutation  of  bodies,  and  the  experi- 
ments concerning  metals  and  minerals,  will  lay  open  the  true  ways 
and  passages  of  nature,  which  may  lead  to  this  great  effect."  In 
Hamlet,  Act  iv.,  sc.  7,  p.  341,  we  have  : 

"  But  that  I  know  love  is  begun  by  time  ; 
And  that  I  see,  in  passages  of  proof. ' ' 
'  This  independency  may  be  later  noted  in  quotations  from  Defoe. 
These  authors  all  knew  the  same  things  and  in  the  same  sense. 

^  As  to  the  words  "  spiritual  substance"  as  applied  to  the  soul  and 
these  distinctive  views  concerning  it,  see  ch.  3,  Book  4  of  the  De  Aug- 
mentis.     From  it  we  quote  a  single  sentence,  as  follows  :  "  The  doc- 


262  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

case  dreams  look  like  the  relaxations  and  amusements  of 
the  soul,  when  she  is  disencumbered  of  her  machine,  her 
sports  and  recreations,  Avhen  she  has  laid  her  charge 
asleep. 

"  In  the  second  place,  dreams  are  an  instance  of  that 
agility  and  perfection  which  is  natural  to  the  faculties  of 
the  mind,  when  they  are  disengaged  from  the  body.  The 
soul  is  clogged  and  retarded  in  her  operations,  when  she 
acts  in  conjunction  with  a  companion  that  is  so  heavy 
and  unwieldy  in  its  motions.  But  in  dreams  it  is  won- 
derful to  observe  with  what  a  sprightliness  and  alacrity 
she  exerts  herself.'  The  slow  of  speech  make  unpremedi- 
tated harangues,  or  converse  readily  in  languages  that 
they  are  but  little  acquainted*  with.  The  grave  abound 
in  pleasantries,  the  dull  in  repartees  and  points  of  wit. 
Tliere  is  not  a  more  painful  action  of  the  mind  than  in- 
vention f  yet  in  dreams  it  works  with  that  ease  and 
activity,  that  we  are  not  sensible  when  the  faculty  is  em- 
ployed. For  instance,  I  believe  every  one  some  time  or 
other,  dreams  that  he  is  reading  papers,  books,  or  letters  ; 
in  which  case  the  invention  prompts  so  readily,  that  the 
mind  is  imposed  upon,  and  mistakes  its  own  suggestions 
for  the  compositions  of  another. 

"  I  shall  under  this  head,  quote  a  passage  out  of  the 
Religio  Medici,  in  which  the  ingenious  author  gives  an 
account  of  himself  in  his  dreaming  and  his  waking 
thoughts.  '  We  are  somewhat  more  than  ourselves  in  our 
sleeps,  and  the  slumber  of  the  body  seems  to  be  but  the 
waking  of  the  soul.  It  is  the  ligation  of  sense,  but  the 
liberty  of  reason;  and  our  waking  conceptions  do  not 
matcii  the  fancies  of  our  sleeps.  At  my  nativity  my  as- 
trine  of  the  inspired  substance,  as  also  of  the  substance  of  the  rational 
soul,  comprehends  several  inquiries  with  relation  to  its  nature,  as 
whether  tlie  soul  be  native  or  adventitious,  separable  or  inseparable, 
mortal  or  immortal  ;  how  far  it  is  subject  to  the  laws  of  matter, 
how  far  not,  and  the  like."     (Bohn's  ed.,  p.  173.) 

'  For  a  further  phase  of  the  subject,  see  Defoe's  History  of  the 
Devil,  p.  548. 

'■*  In  our  mentioned  Head  liglit  Bacon  makes  use  of  the  words 
"  because  I  account  my  ordinary  course  of  study  and  meditation  to 
be  more  painful  than  most  parts  of  actton  are."  And  in  Love's 
Labour's  Lost,  Act  ii.,  sc.  1,  p.  386,  we  have  the  expression  "  pain- 
ful study."  * 

^  Bacon  in  making  a  quotation  ever  uses  the  words  "out  of," 
and  so  they  will  be  found  throughout  these  writings. 


LIFE   OF    BACON".  M'S 

Cendant  was  the  watery  sign  of  Scorpius  :  I  was  born  in 
the  planetary  hour  of  Saturn,  and,  I  think,  I  have  a  piece 
of  that  leaden  planet  in  me.  I  am  no  way  facetious,  nor 
disposed  for  the  mirth  and  galliardize  of  company  ;  yet 
in  one  dream  I  can  compose  a  whole  comedy,  behold  the 
action,  comprehend  the  jests,  and  laugh  myself  awake  at 
the  conceits  thereof.  Were  my  memory  as  faithful  as  my 
reason  is  then  fruitful,  I  would  never  study  but  in  my 
dreams  ;  and  this  time  also  would  1  choose  for  my  devo- 
tions :  but  our  grosser  memories  have  then  so  little  hold 
of  our  abstracted  understandings,  that  they  forget  the 
story,  and  can  only  relate  to  our  awaked  souls  a  confused 
and  broken  tale  of  that  that  has  passed. — Thus  it  is  ob- 
served, that  men  sometimes,  upon  the  hour  of  their  depar- 
ture, do  speak  and  reason  above  themselves  ;  for  then  the 
soul,  beginning  to  be  freed  from  the  ligaments  of  the  body, 
begins  to  reason  like  herself,  and  to  discourse  in  a  strain 
above  mortality.' 

"  We  may  likewise  observe  in  the  third  place,  that  the 
passions  affect  the  mind  with  greater  strength  when  we 
are  sleep,  than  when  we  are  awake.  Joy  and  sorrow  give 
us  more  vigorous  sensations  of  pain  or  pleasure  at  this 
time,  than  any  other.  Devotion  likewise,  as  the  excellent 
author  above-mentioned  has  hinted,  in  a  very  particular 
manner  heightened  and  inflamed,"  when  it  rises  in  the  soul 
at  a  time  that  the  body  is  thus  laid  at  rest.  Every  man's 
experience  will  inform  him  in  this  matter,  though  it  is 
very  probable  that  this  may  happen  differently  in  different 
constitutions.  I  shall  conclude  this  head  with  the  two 
following  problems,  which  I  shall  leave  to  the  solution  of 
the  reader.  Supposing  a  man  always  happy  in  his  dreams, 
and  miserable  in  his  waking  thoughts,  and  that  his  life 
was  equally  divided  between  them,  whether  would  he  be 
more  happy  or  miserable  ?  Were  a  man  a  king  in  his 
dreams,  and  a  beggar  awake,  and  dreamt  as  consequen- 
tially and  in  as  continued  unbroken  schemes  as  he  thinks 
when  awake,  whether  he  would  be  in  reality  a  king  or  a 
beggar,  or  rather  whether  he  would  not  be  both  ?^ 

'  To  Bacon's  distinctive  use  of  this  word  "inflamed"  we  have 
ah-eady  called  attention. 

"  In  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  v.,  sc.  1,  p.  146,  we  have  : 

"  Iio)n.  If  I  may  trust  the  flattering  eye  of  sleep,. 
My  dreams  presage  some  joyful  news  at  hand  : 


264  LIFE   OF    BACON. 

*'  There  is  another  circumstance,  which  methinks  gives 
us  a  very  high  idea  of  the  nature  of  the  soul,  in  regard  to 
what  passes  in  dreams,  I  mean  that  innumerable  multi- 
tude and  variety  of  ideas  which  then  arise  in  her.  Were 
that  active  and  watchful  being  only  conscious  of  her  own 
existence  at  such  a  time,  what  a  painful  solitude  would 
her  hours  of  sleep  be  ?  Were  the  soul  sensible  of  her 
being  alone  in  her  sleeping  moments,  after  the  same 
manner  that  she  is  sensible  of  it  while  awake,  the  time 
would  hang  very  heavy  on  her,  as  it  often  actually  does 
when  she  dreams  that  she  is  in  such  a  solitude  :' 

" — Seinperque  relinqiii 
Sola  sibi  semper  longam  incomitata  videtur 
Ire  viam — "  — Virg. 

"  But  this  observation  I  only  make  by  the  way.  What 
I  would  here  remark,  is  that  wonderful  power  in  the 
soul,  of  producing  her  own  company  upon  these  occa- 
sions. She  converses  with  numberless  beings  of  her  own 
creation,  and  is  transported  into  ten  thousand  scenes  of 
her  own  raising.  She  is  herself  the  theatre,  the  actor, 
and  the  beholder. °  This  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  saying 
which  I  am  infinitely  pleased  with,  and  which  Plutarch 

My  bosom's  lord  sits  lightly  in  liis  throne  ; 

And,  all  this  day,  an  unaccustom'd  spirit 

Lifts  me  abov^e  tlie  ground  with  clieerful  thoughts. 

I  dreamt,  my  lady  came  and  found  me  dead, 

(Strange  dream  !  that  gives  a  dead  man  leave  to  think,) 

And  breath'd  such  life  with  kisses  in  my  lips, 

That  I  reviv'd,  and  was  an  emperor." 

'  Observe  the  emphasis  in  Bacon's  attributed  writings  upon  the 
subjects  of  silence  and  solitude,  and  note  it  later  in  connection  with 
the  Serious  Reflections  of  Crusoe,  hereafter  to  be  considered. 
^  And  in  The  Tempest,  Act  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  85,  we  have  : 
"  These  our  actors. 
As  I  foretold  you,  were  all  spirits,  and 
Are  melted  into  air,  into  thin  air  : 
And,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  this  vision. 
The  cloud-capp'd  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 
Tlie  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself. 
Yea,  all  which  it  inherit,  shall  dissolve  ; 
And,  like  this  insubstantial  pageant  faded. 
Leave  not  a  rack  behind.     We  are  such  stuff 
As  dreams  are  made  on,  and  our  little  life 
Is  rounded  with  a  sleep." 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  265 

ascribes  to  Heiaclitus,  *  That  all  men,  whilst  they  are 
awake,  are  in  one  common  world  ;  but  that  eacli  of  them, 
when  he  is  asleep,  is  in  a  world  of  his  own.'  The  waking 
man  is  conversant  in  the  world  of  nature,  when  he  sleeps 
he  retires  to  a  piivate  world  that  is  particular  to  himself. 
There  seems  something  in  this  consideration  that  intimates 
to  us  a  natural  grandeur  and  perfection  in  the  soul  which 
is  rather  to  be  admired  than  explained. 

"  I  must  not  omit  that  argument  for  the  excellenc}'  of 
the  soul,  which  I  have  seen  quoted  out  of  Tertullian, 
namely,  its  power  of  divining  in  dreams.'  That  several 
such  divinations  have  been  made  none  can  question,  who 
believe  the  holy  writings,  or  who  has  but  the  least  degree 
of  a  common  historical  faith  ;  there  being  innumerable 
instances  of  this  nature  in  several  authors,  botli  ancient 
and  modern,  sacred  and  profane.  Whether  such  dark 
passages,^  such  visions  of  the  night,  proceed  from  any 
latent  power  of  the  soul,  during  this  her  state  of  abstrac- 
tion, or  from  any  communication  with  the  Supreme  Being, 
or  from  any  operation  of  subordinate  spirits,^  has  been  a 
great  dispute  among  the  learned  ;  the  matter  of  fact,  is, 
I  think,  incontestable,  and  has  been  looked  upon  as  such 
by  the  greatest  writers,  who  have  been  never  suspected 
either  of  superstition  or  enthusiasm. 

"  I  do  not  suppose,  that  the  soul,  in  these  instances,  is 
entirely  loose  and  unfettered  from  the  body  :  it  is  suffi- 
cient, if  she  is  not  so  far  sunk  and  immersed  in  matter/ 

'  Bacon  says  :  "  There  be  some  perfumes  prescribed  by  the  writers 
of  natural  magic,  which  procure  pleasant  dreams  ;  and  some  others 
(as  they  say)  which  procure  prophetic  dreams  ;  as  the  seeds  of  flax, 
fleaworth,  etc."  (Sub.  938  of  Bacon's  Natural  History.)  Every 
phase  of  this  subject  was  familiar  to  him,  as  his  writings  will  abun- 
dantly show.  In  sub.  955  he  says:  "For  imagination  is  like  to 
work  better  upon  sleeping  men  than  men  awake  ;  as  we  shall  show 
when  we  handle  dreams." 

'  We  here  again  have  Bacon's  use  of  the  word  "  passages." 

^  The  subject  of  these  subordinate  spirits  is  handled  in  the  Defoe 
work  on  Apparitions,  and  in  Crusoe's  "  Vision  of  the  Angelic 
World." 

■*  This  distinctive  and  \inusual  expression  "immersed  in  matter" 
Bacon  uses  thus  :  "  Civil  knowledge  is  conversant  about  a  subject, 
which  of  all  others  is  most  immersed  in  matter,  and  with  most 
difficulty  reduced  to  axioms."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  32.)  He 
also  says  :  "  We  must  note,  that  as  physics  regards  the  things  which 
are  wholly  immersed  in  matter  and  movable,  so  metaphysics  regards 
what  is  more  abstracted  and  fixed."    He  likewise  makes  use  of  the 


266  LIFE    OF    BACON". 

nor  entangled  and  perplexed  in  her  operations,  with  such 
motions  of  blood  and  spirits,  as  when  she  actuates  the 
machine  in  its  waking  hours.  The  corporeal  union  is 
slackened  enough  to  give  the  mind  more  play.  The  soul 
seems  gathered  within  herself,  and  recovers  that  spring 
which  is  broken  and  weakened,  when  she  operates  more 
in  concert  with  the  body. 

"  The  speculations  I  have  here  made,  if  they  are  not 
arguments,  they  are  at  least  strong  intimations,  not  only 
of  the  excellency  of  a  human  soul,  but  of  its  independency 
on  the  body  ;  and  if  they  do  not  prove,  do  at  least  confirm 
these  two  great  points,  which  are  established  by  many 
other  reasons  that  are  altogether  unanswerable." 

And  he  closes  an  article  touching  allegory  and  the 
imagination  in  his  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  429,  thus  : 

"  There  is  not  a  si^ht  in  nature  so  mortifying  as  that 
of  a  distracted  person,  when  his  imagination  is  troubled, 
and  his  whole  soul  disordered  and  confused.  Babylon  in 
ruins  is  not  so  melancholy  a  spectacle.  But  to  quit  so 
disagreeable  a  subject,  I  shall  only  consider,  by  way  of 
conclusion,  what  an  infinite  advantage  this  faculty  gives 
an  almighty  being  over  the  soul  of  man,  and  how  great  a 
measure  of  happiness  or  misery  we  are  capable  of  receiving 
from  the  imagination  only.' 

"  We  have  already  seen  the  influence  that  one  man  has 
over  the  fancy  of  another,  and  with  what  ease  he  conveys 
into°  it  a  variety  of  images  f  how  great  a  power  then  may 

expression  "  drenched  in  flesli  and  blood,"  and  in  Macbeth,  Act  i., 
sc.  7,  p.  266,  we  have  : 

"  When  in  swinish  sleep 
Their  drenched  natures  lie,  as  in  a  death, 
What  cannot  you  and  I  perform  upon 
Tlie  unguarded  Duncan  ?" 

Bacon  says  of  swine  that  "  their  flesh  is  moister  than  that  of  any 
other  animal. "     (Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  235.) 

'  See  in  this  connection  our  quotation  from  Bacon  at  p.  194. 

*  Bacon  aided  much  his  definiteness  of  thought  by  a  wise  choice 
of  the  direction  words  of  the  language  ;  in  other  words,  prepositions, 
and  particularly  so  in  the  use  of  tlie  word  "into."  Note  its  use 
here  and  throughout,  and  particularly  in  the  plays.  We  shall  indeed 
find  this  word  to  be  so  used  as  to  be  a  distinct  earmark  in  these 
writings. 

*  See,  please,  upon  this  point  Bacon's  Natural  History,  sub.  901- 
60.  Sub.  947  is  as  follows:  "For  authority,  it  is  of  two  kinds  : 
belief  in  an  ait,  and  belief  in  a  man.     And  for  things  of  belief  in  an 


LIFE   OF    BACON.  267 

we  suppose  lodged  in  Him,  who  knows  all  the  ways  of 
affecting  the  imagination,  who  can  infuse  what  ideas  he 
pleases,  and  fill  those  ideas  with  terror  or  delight  to  what 
degree  he  thinks  fit  !  He  can  excite  images  in  the  mind 
without  the  help  of  words,  and  make  scenes  rise  up  before 
lis  and  seem  present  to  the  eye,  without  the  assistance  of 
bodies  or  exterior  objects.  He  can  transport  the  imagina- 
tion with  such  beautiful  and  glorious  visions,  as  cannot 
possibly  enter  into  our  present  conceptions  ;  or  haunt  it 
with  such  ghostly  spectres  and  apparitions,  as  would  make 
us  hope  for  annihilation,  and  think  existence  no  better  than 
a  curse.'  In  short,  he  can  so  exquisitely  ravish  or  torture 
the  soul  through  this  single  faculty,  as  might  suffice  to 
make  up  the  whole  heaven  or  hell  of  a  finite  being." 

Bacon  indeed  recommends  the  writing  of  a  "  History 
of  Sleep  and  Dreams."  ^  And  in  his  De  Augmentis,  ch. 
1,  Book  4,  he,  as  to  "  the  League  or  Common  Bond  be- 
tween soul  and  body,"  and  "  how  these  tv/o  disclose  the  one 
the  other,"  considers  the  soul  under  the  heads  of  Physiog- 
nomy and  Dreams,  and  concerning  them  says  :  "  And  al- 
though they  have  of  late  times  been  polluted  with  supersti- 
tious and  fantastical  arts,  yet  being  purged  and  restored  to 
their  true  state,  they  have  both  a  solid  ground  in  nature 

art,  a  man  may  exercise  them  by  himself ;  but  for  belief  in  a  man, 
it  must  be  by  another.  Therefore  if  a  man  believe  in  astrology,  and 
find  a  figure  prosperous  ;  or  believe  in  natural  magic,  and  that  a 
ring  with  such  a  stone,  or  such  a  piece  of  a  living  creature,  carried, 
will  do  good  ;  it  may  help  his  imagination  ;  but  the  belief  in  a  man 
is  far  the  more  active.  But  howsoever,  all  authority  must  be  out  of  a 
man's  self,  turned  (as  was  said)  either  upon  an  art,  or  upon  a  man  ; 
and  where  autliority  is  from  one  man  to  another,  there  the  second 
must  be  ignorant,  and  not  learned,  or  full  of  thoughts  ;  and  such 
are_(for  the  most  part)  all  witches  and  superstitious  persons  ;  whose 
beliefs,  tied  to  their  teachers  and  traditions,  are  no  whit  controlled 
either  by  reason  or  experience  ;  and  upon  the  same  reason,  in  magic, 
they  use  (for  the  most  part)  boys  and  young  people  ;  whose  spirits 
easiliest  take  belief  and  imagination." 

'See  Clarence's  dream  in  Richard  III.,  Act  1.,  sc.  4,  p.  54,  and 
which  opens  thus  : 

"  Glar.  O  !  I  have  pass'd  a  miserable  night, 
So  full  of  fearful  dreams,  of  ugly  sights. 
That,  as  I  am  a  Christian  faithful  man, 
I  would  not  spend  another  such  a  night. 
Though  'twere  to  buy  a  world  of  happy  days  ; 
So  full  of  dismal  terror  was  the  time." 
^  Philosophical  Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  268. 


268  LIFE    OF    BACON". 

and  a  profitable  use  in  life.  The  first  is  Physiognomy,' 
which  discovers  the  dispositions  of  the  mind  by  the  line- 
aments of  the  body  ;  the  second  is  the  Interpretation  of 
Natural  Dreams,  which  discovers  the  state  and  disposition 
of  the  body  by  the  agitations  of  the  mind.  In  the  former 
of  these  I  note  a  deficience.  For  Aristotle  has  very 
ingeniously  and  diligently  handled  the  structure  of  the 
body  when  at  rest,  but  the  structure  of  the  body  when  in 
motion  (that  is  the  gestures  of  the  body)  he  has  omitted  ; 
which  nevertheless  are  equally  within  the  observations  of 
art,  and  of  greater  use  and  advantage.  For  the  lineaments 
of  the  body  disclose  the  dispositions  and  inclinations  of 
the  mind  in  general  ;  but  the  motions  and  gestures  of 
the  countenance  and  parts  do  not  only  so,  but  disclose 
likewise  the  seasons  of  access,  and  the  present  humour 
and  state  of  the  mind  and  will.  For  as  your  Majesty  says 
most  aptly  and  elegantly,  '  As  the  tongue  speaketh  to  the 
ear  so  the  gesture  speaketh  to  the  eye.'  And  well  is  this 
known  to  a  number  of  cunning  and  astute  persons  ;  whose 
eyes  dwell  upon  the  faces^  and  gestures  of  men,  and  make 
their  own  advantage  of  it,'  as  being  most  part  of  their 
ability  and  wisdom.  Neither  indeed  can  it  be  denied,  but 
that  it  is  a  wonderful  index  of  simulation  in  another, 
and  an  excellent  direction  as  to  the  choice  of  proper  times 
and  seasons  to  address  persons  ;  which  is  no  small  part  of 
civil  wisdom.  Nor  let  any  one  imagine  that  a  sagacity  of 
this  kind  may  be  of  use  with  respect  to  particular  persons, 
but  cannot  fall  under  a  general  rule  ;  for  we  all  laugh  and 
weep  and  frown  and  blush  nearly  in  the  same  fashion  ; 
and  so  it  is  (for  the  most  part)  in  the  more  subtle  motions.* 

'  See  the  article  on  Physiognomy  in  Addison,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  398-402. 
"^  Throughout  these  writings  observe  tlie  emphasis  placed  upon  the 
"  face,"  and  see  Addison,  vol.  ii.,  p.  421.     In  Hamlet,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2, 
p.  285,  we  have  : 

"  Give  him  heedful  note  : 
For  I  mine  eyes  will  rivet  to  his  face  ; 
And,  after,  we  will  both  our  judgments  join 
In  censure  of  his  seeming." 
*  The  Baconian  expressions  "  find  their  account  in  it"  and  "  make 
their  own  advantage  of  it"  may  be  found  in  most  phases  of  these 
writings.     They  occur  in  many  places  in  Addison,  and  in  vol.  v.,  p. 
170,  we  have  :  "  Let  this  be  a  secret,  and  you  shall  find  your  account 
in  it." 

■•  It  was  on  the  basis  of  this  thought  that  he  made  his  tables  apply 
to  mental  as  well  as  to  material  change. 


LIFE   OF    BACON.  2G9 

Bat  if  any  one  be  reminded  here  of  chiromancy,  let  him 
know'  that  it  is  a  vain  imposture,  not  worthy  to  be  so 
much  as  mentioned  in  discourses  of  this  nature.  With 
regard  to  the  Interpretation  of  Natural  Dreams,  it  is  a 
thing  that  has  been  laboriously  handled  by  many  writers, 
but  it  is  fall  of  follies.''  At  present  I  will  only  observe 
that  it  is  not  grounded  upon  the  most  solid  foundation  of 
which  it  admits  ;  which  is,  that  when  the  same  sensation 
is  produced  in  the  sleeper  by  an  internal  cause  which  is 
usually  the  effect  of  some  external  act,  that  external  act 
passes  into  the  dream."  " 

As  to  the  imagination  Bacon  says  :  "  It  was  ever  thought 
to  have  some  participation  of  divineness,  because  it  doth 
raise  and  erect  the  mind  by  submitting  the  shows  of 
things  to  the  desires  of  the  mind  ;  whereas  reason  doth 
buckle  and  bow  the  mind  into  the  nature  of  things."     , 

Again  he  says  :  "  The  imagination  not  bein^  tied*  to 
the  laws  of  matter,  may  at  pleasure  join  that  which  nature 
hath  severed  and  sever  that  which  nature  hath  joined  ; 
and  so  make  unlawful  matches  and  divorces  of  things." 
(Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  144.) 

Imagination  is  neither  tied  to  the  order  nor  to  the 
relations  of  the  outlying  world,  though  it  draws  what  it 

'  To  this  expression,  "  let  him  kaow,"  we  have  already  called  atten- 
tion, and  shall  do  so  again  when  we  come  to  the  work  Crusoe. 

'  Let  the  emphasis  on  the  word  "folly"  be  noted  throughout, 
together  with  the  rhyming  of  it  with  "  melancholy"  in  the  poem 
introductory  to  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy. 

*  While  this  may  have  an  influence  in  turning  aside  or  giving 
direction  to  a  dream  drama,  still  it  wdl  in  no  way  explain  or  account 
for  the  objects  and  scenes  themselves,  nor  furnish  the  light,_  earth, 
air,  seas,  nor  sky  of  them.  Nor  can  science  tell  us  how  in  this  third 
stage  of  the  mind  it  may  have  retinal  effects  without  actual  rays  of 
ligtit  and  the  particular  physical  objects  from  which  they  may  spring. 
Nor  can  imagination  in  the  wakeful  state,  even  by  effort,  ever  present 
to  consciousness  actual  objects  and  experiences. 

■*  We  have  already  in  earlier  pages  called  attention  to  this  unusual 
use  of  the  word  "  tie"  and  given  examples.  We  will  add  from 
King  Henry  V.,  Act  v.,  sc.  3,  p.  587,  the  following  : 

"  King.  This  moral  ties  me  over  to  time,  and  a  hot  summjr  ;  and 
so  I  will  catch  the  fly,  your  cousin,  in  the  latter  end,  and  she  must 
be  blind  too." 

In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  143,  we  have  :  "  He  said,  that  a  tender 
conscience  was  an  unmanly  thing  ;  and  that  for  a  raau  to  watch 
over  his  words  and  way,  so  as  to  tie  up  himself  from  that  hectoring 
liberty  that  the  brave  spirits  of  the  times  accustomed  themselves 
unto,  would  make  him  the  ridicule  of  the  times." 


270  LIFE    OF    BACONS'. 

will  from  its  grounds,  both  objective  and  subjective. 
But  as  the  will  may  by  choice  so  direct  the  mental  energies 
as  wisely  to  enrich  the  subjective  world  or  sensibility,  so 
subjectively  it  may  inhibit  fugitive  thought  and  desires, 
and  thus  point  and  hold  the  mental  energies  in  the  partic- 
ular direction  from  which  spontaneity  is  sought.  And  so 
the  mind  may  grow  to  a  habit  in  this.  This  method  of 
control  is  recommended  to  the  queen  in  the  play  of 
Hamlet,  and  in  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  vol.  ii.,  p. 
357,  it  is  recommended  generally  as  to  tbe  passions,  and 
wherein  it  is  said  "  if  one  chance  to  light  upon  a  woman, 
that  hath  good  behavior  joined  with  her  excellent  person, 
and^hall  perceive  his  e^es,  with  a  kind  of  greediness,  to 
pull  unto  them  this  image  of  beauty,  and  carry  it  to  the 
heart  ;  shall  observe  himself  to  be  somewhat  incensed 
with  this  influence,  which  moveth  within  ;  when  he  shall 
discern  those  subtle  spirits  sparkling  in  her  eyes'  to  min- 
ister more  fuel  to  the  fire  ;  he  must  wisely  withstand  the 
beginnings,  rouse  up  reason  stupefied  almost ;  fortify  his 
heart''  by  all  means,  and  shut  up  all  those  passages^  by 
which  it  may  have  entrance." 

'  As  to  the  eyes,  we  in  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  Act  ii.,  sc.  2, 
p.  298,  have  : 

"  Things  growing  are  not  ripe  until  tlieir  season  ; 
So  I,  being  young,  till  now  ripe  not  to  reason  ; 
And  touching  now  the  point  of  human  skill, 
Reason  becomes  the  marshal  to  my  will, 
And  leads  me  to  your  eyes  ;  where  I  o'erlook 
Love's  stories  written  in  love's  richest  book." 

'  Note  the  expression  "  fortify  the  heart."  Bacon,  and  in  con- 
nection with  this  subject  of  melancholy,  says  :  "  For  the  physicians 
prescribe  drugs  to  heal  mental  deseases,  as  in  the  treatment  of 
phrensy  and  melancholy  ;  and  pretend  also  to  exhibit  medicines  to 
exhilarate  the  mind,  to  fortify  the  heart  and  thereby  confirm  the 
courage,  to  clarify  the  wits,  to  corroborate  the  memory,  and  the 
like."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  377.)  And  as  to  fortifying  the 
heart,  we  in  Hamlet,  Act  i.,  sc.  2,  p.  209,  have  : 

"  But  to  persevere 
In  obstinate  coudolement,  is  a  course 
Of  impious  stubbornness  ;  'tis  unmanly  grief  ; 
It  shows  a  will  most  incorrect  to  Heaven  ; 
A  heart  unfortitied,  a  mind  impatient. 
An  understanding  simple  and  uuschool'd." 

^  Here,  again,  we  have  Bacon's  word  "  passages,"  and  in  Macbeth 
we  tind  the  expression  "  stop  up  the  access  and  passage  to  remorse." 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  271 

Let  it  be  here  particularly  noted  that  in  all  of  the 
works  under  review  there  is  manifested  the  settled  opinion 
that  both  lust  and  pride  are  first  set  in  motion  through  the 
eyes.'  Eveu  in  the  youthful  treatise,  the  Anatomy  of 
Abuses,  we,  p.  9,  as  to  pride,  have  :  "  Pride  is  tripar- 
tite, namely,  the  pride  of  the  heart,  the  pride  of  the 
mouth,  and  the  pride  of  apparel,  the  last  whereof  (unless 
I  be  deceived)  offendeth  God  more  than  the  other  two. 
For  as  the  pride  of  the  heart,  and  of  the  mouth,  are  not 
opposite  to  the  eye,  nor  visible  to  the  sight,  and  therefore 
cannot  entice  others  to  vanity  and  sin  (notwithstanding 
they  be  grievous  sins  in  the  sight  of  God)  ;  so  the  pride 
of  apparel  object  to  the  sight,  as  an  exampler  of  evil, 
induceth  the  whole  man  to  wickedness  and  sin." 

During  this  year,  1620,  and  following  the  issue  of  the 
Novum  Organum,  was  planted  by  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  the 
first  permanent  settlement  in  that  part  of  America  known 
as  New  England. 

The  next  year,  1621,  Bacon  received  the  honorary  title 
of  Viscount  St.  Albans,  thus  reaching  the  zenith  of  his 
prosperity,  though  by  no  means  of  his  fame,  which  eveu 
now  anew  enkindles. 

But  the  throes  of  the  tempest  which  were  to  wreck  his 
fortunes  Avere  at  this  time  fed  fat  and  trembling  to  the 
birth,  as  James,  pretending  aid  to  Bohemia,  though  really 
for  private  aid,  resolved  upon  another  Parliament  late  in 
1620,  and  which  convened  in  January,  1621.  Nat  merely 
the  mining  trails  of  Coke  and  envy  had  been  laid  ;  but 
being  in  the  way  of  influences  that  had  long  tried  to 
ripen,  herein  stood  an  ambush  of  greater  danger.*     A  new 

'  In  Twelfth  Night,  Act  i.,  sc.  5,  p.  373,  we  have  : 

"  How  now  ? 
Even  so  quickly  may  one  catch  the  plague. 
Methinks  I  feel  this  youth's  perfections 
With  an  invisible  and  subtle  stealth 
To  creep  in  at  mine  eyes. ' ' 

See  the  court  of  the  eye  described  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  ii., 
sc.  1,  p.  393. 

'  Promus,  749.  I  may  be  in  their  light,  but  not  in  their  way. 
On  February  16th  there  was  a  conference  of  the  Lords  to  settle  upon 
the  points  for  a  petition  to  be  presented  to  the  king,  asking  the  better 
enforcement  of  the  laws  against  Jesuits,  seminary  priests,  and  Popish 
recusants.     Bacon  was  chairman  of  the  conference,  and  the  next  day 


272  LIFE   or   BACON. 

policy  was  now  at  once  pursued  toward  the  king.  The 
Commons,  under  the  leadership  of  Coke,  at  the  very  out- 
set of  the  session,  and  without  a  dissenting  voice,  voted 
him  two  subsidies.  Then  in  a  temperate,  discreet,  and  sys- 
tematic manner  they  went  to  their  grievances,  which  later 
they  awoke  to  a  universal  cry  for  reform. 

Tlie  Treasury  was  still  in  commission,  and  as  late  as 
October  7th,  five  days  before  the  issue  of  his  Novum 
Organum,  Bacon  in  a  letter  to  Buckingham  was  urging 
upon  the  king  the  appointment  of  a  Treasurer.  lie 
says  :  "  The  state  of  his  Majesty's  treasure  still  maketli 
me  sad,  and  I  am  sorry  I  was  not  at  Tiftalls  to  report  it, 
or  that  it  was  not  done  by  my  feHows.'  It  is  most  neces- 
sary we  do  it  faithfully  and  freely  ;  for  to  flatter  in  this, 
were  to  betray  his  Majesty  with  a  kiss.  I  humbly  pray 
his  Majesty  to  tliink  of  my  former  counsel,  and  this  I  will 
promise,  that  whosoever  his  Majesty  shall  make  Treasurer, 
if  his  Majesty  will  direct  him  to  have  relation  to  my 
advice,  I  will  continue  the  same  care  and  advice  I  do 
now,  and  much  more  cheerfully  when  I  shall  perceive 
that  my  propositions  shall  not  be  literee  scriptie  in  ylacie." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  116.) 

Bacon  entered  this  Parliament  stoutly  urging  reform. 
And  many  facts  show  that  the  king  was  now  growing 
apprehensive  that  the  screen,  Buckingham,  was  absorbing 
too  greedily.  He  was  growing  rapidly  out  of  the  king's 
power  to  adjust  or  control,  as  events  will  show.  Bacon 
urged  that  the  most  obnoxious  patents,  such  as  alehouses, 
inns,  the  monopoly  of  gold  and  silver  thread,  should  be 
given  up  ;  and  he  wrote  to  Buckingham,  whose  brothers 
were  interested,  to  withdraw  them  from  the  pending 
storm.  The  advice  was  rejected.  Extravagant  and  un- 
warranted exactions  under  Buckingham,  scarcely  to  be 
credited,  were  pressed  for  examination  on  every  side. 
There  were  patents  for  each  of  the  necessaries  of  life 
e^en,  and  the  profits  were  being  shared  by  various  classes 
connected  with  Buckingham.  Though  the  king  was  re- 
ceiving but  a  portion  of  the  spoils,  still  he  was  receiving 

made  the  presentation  speech  to  the  king.  See  Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  vii.,  pp.  181-83. 

■  Til  is  word  "  fellows,"  as  used  in  the  New  Atlantis,  in  The  Pil- 
grim's Progress,  and  in  the  Plays,  will  be  found  to  have  its  distinc- 
tive use  throughout. 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  273 

all  the  odium.  Before  a  committee  of  the  House  it  ap- 
peared that  the  Countess  of  Bedford,  Lord  Harrington, 
Christopher  Villiers,  a  brother,  and  Sir  George  Villiers, 
a  half-brother,  of  Buckingham,  between  them  received 
£1800  annually,  and  that  from  one  single  patent  alone  the 
king  received  £10,000.  James,  ever  a  moral  coward,  now 
became  alarmed  at  the  rumors,  and  especially  so  as  the 
Commons  were  beginning  to  be  gracious  to  him.  He  at 
once  communicated  to  the  Lords  that  this  patent  had 
been  sanctioned  by  several  of  the  judges  in  point  of  law. 
He  had  through  Buckingham,  in  October,  1618,  requested 
Bacon  to  consult  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  the  Attorney- 
General,  and  the  Solicitor-General  in  relation  thereto,  and 
with  the  following  result  : 

"  May  it  please  your  most  excellent  Majesty  : 
According  to  your  majesty's  pleasure,  signified  to  us  by 
the  Lord  Marquis  Buckingham,  we  have  considered  of 
the  fitness  and  conveniency  of  the  gold  and  silver  thread 
business,  as  also  the  profit  that  may  accrue  unto  your 
majesty. 

"  We  are  of  opinion  that  it  is  convenient  that  the  same 
should  be  settled,  having  been  brought  hither  at  the  great 
charge  of  your  majesty's  own  agent,  and  being  a  means  to 
set  many  of  your  poor  subjects  on  work  ;  and  to  this  pur- 
pose there  was  a  former  certificate  to  your  majesty  from 
some  of  us  with  others. 

"  And  for  the  profit  that  will  arise,  we  see  no  cause  to 
doubt  ;  but  do  conceive  apparent  likelihood,  that  it  will 
redound  much  to  your  majesty's  profit,  which  we  esteem 
may  be  at  the  least  ten  thousand  pounds  by  the  year  ; 
and,  therefore,  in  a  business  of  such  benefit  to  your  maj- 
esty, it  were  good  it  were  settled  with  all  convenient 
speed,  by  all  lawful  means  that  may  be  thought  of  ;  which 
notwithstanding  we  most  humbly  leave  to  your  majesty's 
wisdom.  Your  majesty's  most  humble  and  faithful  ser- 
vant?. Fr.  Verulam,  Cane.  H.  Montagu,  Henry  Yelver- 
ton."     (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  177.) 

Earlier  the  king  had  impatiently  urged  to  the  seal  this 
monopoly,  as  will -appear  from  tlie  following  letter  from 
Buckingham  to  Bacon,  under  date  February  7th,  1617  : 

"  My  Honorable  Lord  :  His  majesty  marvelleth,  that 
he  heareth  nothing  of  the  business  touching  the  gold  and 
silver  thread  :  and  therefore  hath  commanded  me  to  write 


274  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

unto  your  lordship  to  baslen  the  dispatch  of  it ;  and  to 
give  him  as  speedy  an  account  thereof  as  you  can.  And 
so  I  rest  your  lordship's  faithful  servant  G.  Bucking- 
ham."    (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  113.) 

This  patent  was  granted  to  Sir  Giles  Mompesson  and 
Sir  Francis  Mitchell,  and  who  by  this  Parliament  were 
brought  to  punishment  for  frauds  committed  under  it. 

If  the  king  had  merely  intended  a  curtail  upon  Buck- 
ingham and  liis  dependents,  things  were  now  so  shaped - 
by  certain  manipulators  that  he  was  himself  put  to  the 
dread  of  much  odium  ;  and  which  must,  as  he  was  advised, 
if  not  diverted,  fall  full  upon  himself.  His  long  screen- 
managed  affairs  were  now  upon  the  very  eve  of  full  inves- 
tigation. But  his  fears  did  not  stop  there,  for  he  saw 
that  investigation,  if  allowed  to  go  forward,  must  disclose 
to  the  Spanish  court  his  true  financial  needs  and  motive 
for  the  still  jiending  marriage  alliance.  Hume  says  the 
Infanta  was  to  "  bring  with  her  an  immense  fortune  of 
two  million  pieces  of  eight,  or  six  hundred  thousand 
pounds  sterling — a  sum  four  times  greater  tiian  Spain 
had  ever  before  given  with  any  princess,  and  almost  equal 
to  all  the  money  which  the  Parliament,  during  the  whole 
course  of  this  reign,  had  hitherto  granted  to  the  king." 
(Hume,  vol.  iv.,  p.  63.) 

And  so  the  king,  who  had  through  Bacon  moved  the 
Parliament  to  these  purgings,  receded,  and  permitted  the 
tempest  to  fall  where  its  guiding  spirits  sought,  and  so  in 
full  upon  Bacon,  and  concerning  which  he  in  Sonnet  118 
says  : 

"  Like  as,  to  make  our  appetites  more  keen, 
With  eager  compounds  we  our  palate  urge  ; 
As,  to  prevent  our  maladies  unseen, 
We  sicken  to  shun  sickness  when  we  purge  ; 
Even  so,  being  full  of  your  ne'er-cloying  sweetness, 
To  bitter  sauces  did  I  frame  my  feeding  ;' 
And,  sick  of  welfare,  found  a  liiud  of  meetness 
To  be  diseas'd,  ere  that  there  was  true  needing. 

'  This  use  of  the  word  "  feed  "  is  Baconian.  He  says  :  "  A  man 
who  feeds  twice  a  day  takes  no  small  quanttty  of  meat  and  drink 
into  his  body  ;  much  more  indeed  than  he  discharges  by  stool,  urine, 
or  sweat."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  314.)  In  The  Pilgrim's  Prog- 
ress, p.  379,  we  have  :  "  As  for  Mr.  Despondency,  the  music  was 
not  so  much  to  him  ;  he  was  for  feeding  rather  than  dancing,  for 
that  he  was  almost  starved." 


LIFE   OF   BACOif.  275 

Thus  policy  in  love,  t'  anticipate 
The  ills  that  were  not,  grew  to  faults  assur'd, 
And  brought  to  medicine  a  healthful  state, 
Which,  rank  of  goodness,  would  by  ill  be  cur'd  : 
But  thence  I  learn,  and  find  the  lesson  true. 
Drugs  poison  him  that  so  fell  sick  of  you."  ' 

Buckingham,  fearing  full  exposure  to  king  and  people, 
now  consulted  Williams,  Dean  of  Westminster,  a  man 
subtle  in  matters  of  state,  and  in  whom  Buckingham's 
mother  is  said  to  have  had  a  deep  interest.  Williams 
advised  that  Buckingham's  brother,  Villiers,  be  at  once 
sent  upon  some  foreign  embassy,  lie  next  advised  com- 
pliance with  the  popular  humor,  and  that  certain  persons, 
including  Mompesson  and  Mitchell,  should  be  thrown 
over  board  as  wares  that  might  now  the  better  be  dis- 
pensed with.  Buckingham  (the  false  brother  of  The 
Tempest)  had  professed  hitherto  to  be  guided  by  Bacon's 
counsels.  But  now  he  not  only  consulted  with  Williams, 
but  with  him  went  privately  to  the  king.  The  king  had 
at  first  thought  to  dissolve  the  Parliament,  even  though 
thereby  he  were  to  lose  his  mentioned  subsidies.  But 
Williams — had  he  thus  early  Buckingham's  encourage- 
ment for  the  seals — dissuaded  the  king  from  that  course, 
saying  :  "  There  is  no  colour  to  quarrel  at  this  general  as- 
sembly of  the  kingdom,  for  tracing  delinquents  to  their 
form  :  it  is  their  proper  work,  and  your  majesty  hath 
nobly  encouraged  them  to  it.  Your  lordship,"  he  said, 
turning  to  Buckingham,  "  is  jealous,  if  the  Parliament 
continue  embodied,  of  your  own  safety.  Follow  it,  swim 
"with  the  tide  :  trust  me  and  your  other  servants  that  have 
some  credit  with  the  most  active  members,  to  keep  you 
clear  from  the  strife  of  tongues  ;  but  if  you  break  up  this 
Parliament,  in  pursuit  of  justice,  only  to  save  some  cor- 
morants who  have  devoured  that  which  they  must  dis- 
gorge, you  will  pluck  up  a  sluice  which  will  overwhelm 
you  all.  Resistance  will  be  attended  with  danger  to  your 
lordship  and  to  his  majesty.  These  popular  outcries 
thrive  by  opposition,  and  when  they  cease  to  be  opposed, 
they  cease  to  exist.  Tlie  Chancellor  has  been  accused. 
He  cannot  escape  unheard.  lie  must  be  acquitted  or  con- 
victed.    He  cannot,  in  this  time  of  excitement  and  pre- 

'  This  sonnet  should  be  read  with  close  attention,  and  the  mind 
should  return  to  it  after  other  relations  have  been  introduced. 


276  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

judgment,  expect  justice.  His  mind  will  easily  be  im- 
pressed by  the  fate  of  otliei*  great  men,  sacrifices  to  the 
blind  ignorance  of  a  vulgar  populace,  whom  talent  will 
not  propitiate  or  innocence  appease.  Can  it  be  doubted, 
that  the  prudent  course  will  be  the  Chancellor's  submis- 
sion, as  an  atonement  for  all  who  are  under  popular  sus- 
picion ?  '  The  only  difficulty  will  be  to  prevail  upon  him 
to  submit.  He  has  resolved  to  defend  himself,  and  in 
speech  he  is  all-powerful  ;  but  he  is  of  a  yielding  nature, 
a  lover  of  lejiters,  in  mind  contemplative,  although  in  life 
active  ;  his  love  of  retirement  may  be  wrought  upon  ;  the 
king  can  remit  any  fine,  and,  the  means  once  secured  to 
him  of  learned  leisure  for  the  few  remaining  years  of  his 
life,  he  will  easily  be  induced  to  quit  the  paradise  of 
earthly  honours."     (Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  92.) 

That  this  course  was  pursued  toward  Bacon  every  feat- 
ure of  what  follows  in  the  history  of  his  overthrow  bears 
witness.  On  March  17th,  1G21,  he  presided  for  the  last 
time  in  the  House  of  Lords.  He  was  now  at  once  made 
to  realize  the  faithlessness  of  friends,  as  well  as  the  malig- 
nity of  his  enemies.  Coke  was  the  foremost  spirit  in 
Parliament.  The  charges  were  at  first  but  those  of  Awbry 
and  Egerton  of  the  previous  year.  They  were  now  ac- 
cumulated to  twenty-eight  in  number.  The  complaints 
were  not  to  the  effect  that  the  gratuities  had,  but  that 
they  had  not,  influenced  his  decision,  as  he  had  decided 
against  the  parties  making  the  presents,  and  this  was 
their  grievance.  In  some  of  these  matters  he  had  but 
acted  as  arbitrator,  in  some  they  were  loans,  and  in  other 
instances  presents  had  been  given  to  servants.  Fourteen 
of  them  related  to  presents  claimed  to  have  been  made 
long  after  the  causes  were  terminated  or  disposed  of.  Let 
it  be  investigated  as  to  whether  there  were  here  gratuities 
that  were,  and  were  intended,  to  go  to  the  king. 

Mining  into  the  state  of  the  Treasury,  now  managed 
through  projects  and  monopolies,  was,  and  according  to 
design,  diverted  to  the  inquiry  touching  the  Chancellor. 
And  for  this  reason,  doubtless,  it  was  that  his  alluded-to 
scheme  for  revenue  never  came  to  light,  and  which  sub- 
ject we  shall  later  call  under  review. 

'  We  shall  later  find  Bacon  to  say  in  one  of  the  sonnets  that  he 
alone  bore  the  "  canopy." 


LIFE   OF   BACON.  xJ77 

The  accumulation  of  the  mentioned  charges  caused 
Bacon  to  write  thus  to  Buckingham  : 

"  My  very  good  Lord  :  Your  lordship  spoke  of  pur- 
gatory. I  am  now  in  it ;  but  my  mind  is  in  a  calm  ;  for 
my  fortune  is  not  my  felicity.  I  know  I  have  clean 
hands,  and  a  clean  heart  ;  and  I  hope  a  clean  house  for 
friends  and  servants.  But  Job  himself,  or  whosoever  was 
the  justest  Judge,  by  such  hunting  for  matters  against 
him  as  hath  been  used  against  me,  may  for  a  time  seem 
foul,  especially  in  a  time  when  greatness  is  the  mark,  and 
accusation  is  the  game.  And  if  this  be  to  be  a  chancellor, 
I  think,  if  the  great  seal  lay  upon  Hounslow  Heath, 
nobody  would  take  it  up.  Bat  the  king  and  your  lord- 
ship will  I  hope  put  an  end  to  these  my  straits  one  way  or 
other..  And,  in  truth,  that  which  I  fear  most,  is,  lest 
continual  attendance  and  business,  together  with  these 
cares,  and  want  of  time  to  do  my  weak  body  right  this 
spring  by  diet  and  physic,'  will  cast  me  down  ;  and  that 
it  will  be  thought  feigning,  or  fainting.  But  I  hope  in 
God  I  shall  hold  out.  God  prosper  you."  (Works,  vol. 
iii.,  p.  134.) 

On  March  19th,  being  too  depressed  to  assume  his 
position  in  the  House  of  Ijords,  he,  by  the  hands  of  Buck- 
ingham, sends  them  the  following  communication  : 

"  My  very  good  Lords  :  I  humbly  pray  your  lord- 
ships all  to  make  a  favorable  and  true  construction  of  my 
absence.  It  is  not  feigning  or  fainting,  but  sickness  both 
of  my  heart  and  of  my  back,  though  joined  with  that 
comfort  of  mind  that  persuadeth  me  that  I  am  not  far 
from  Heaven,  whereof  I  feel  the  first-fruits. 

"  And  because,  whether  I  live  or  die  I  would  be  glad  to 
preserve  my  honour  and  fame,  so  far  as  I  am  worthy  ; 
hearing  that  some  complaints  of  base  bribery  are  coming 
before  your  lordships,  my  requests  unto  your  lordships 
are  : 

"  First,  That  you  will  maintain  me  in  your  good  opin- 
ion, without  prejudice,  until  my  cause  be  heard. 

"  Second,  That  in  regard  I  have  sequestered  my  mind 
at  this  time  in  great  part  from  worldly  matters,  thinking 
of  my  account  and  answers  in  a  high  court,  your  lord- 
ships will  give  me  convenient  time,  according  to  the  course 

'  Note  later  in  Sounet  147  his  allusion  to  this  word  "  physic." 


278  LIFE    OF    BACOif. 

of  Other  courts,  to  advise  with  my  counsel,  and  to  make 
my  answer  ;  wherein,  nevertheless,  my  counsel's  part 
will  be  the  least  :  for  I  shall  not,  by  the  grace  of  God 
trick  up  an  innocency  with  cavillations,  but  plainly  and 
ingeniously  (as  your  lordships  knovv  my  manner  is)  de- 
clare what  I  know  or  remember. 

"  Thirdly,  That  accordmg  to  the  course  of  justice,  I  may 
be  allowed  to  except  to  the  witnesses  brought  against  me  ; 
and  to  move  questions  to  your  lordships  for  their  cross- 
examinations  ;  and  likewise  to  produce  my  own  witnesses 
for  the  discovery  of  the  truth. 

"  And  Lastly,  That  if  there  be  any  more  petitions  of 
like  nature,  that  your  lordships  would  be  pleased  not  to 
take  any  prejudice  or  apprehension  of  any  number  or 
muster  of  them,  especially  against  a  judge,  that  makes 
two  thousand  orders  and  decrees  in  a  year  (not  to  speak 
of  the  courses  that  have  been  taken  for  hunting  oat  com- 
plaints against  me),  but  that  I  may  answer  them  according 
to  the  rules  of  justice,  severally  and  respectively. 

"  These  requests,  I  hoi3e,  appear  to  your  lordships  no 
other  than  just.  And  so  thinking  myself  happy  to  have 
so  noble  peers  and  reverend  prelates  to  discern  of  my 
cause  ;  and  desiring  no  privilege  of  greatness  for  subter- 
fuge of  guiltiness,  but  meaning,  as  I  said,  to  deal  fairly 
and  plainly  with  your  lordships,  and  to  put  myself  upon 
your  honours  and  favours  ;  I  pray  God  to  bless  your 
counsels  and  persons.  And  rest,"  etc.  (Works,  vol.  iii., 
p.  182.) 

It  may  thus  be  seen  that  Bacon  resolved  at  once  upon 
his  defence.  But  this  was  just  what  was  not  wanted. 
Nor  did  Buckingham  purpose  to  have  it  made.  He 
doubtless  feai'ed  the  disclosures  which  it  was  likely  to 
bring.  The  mentioned  interview  between  Williams, 
Buckingham,  and  the  king  must  have  occurred  following 
this  communication  to  the  Lords,  as  Williams  there  speaks 
of  Bacon's  expressed  intention  to  defend  himself.  On 
April  10th  he  made  his  will  and  composed  the  following 
notable  prayer,  wliich^  Mr.  Spedding  thinks,  could  not 
have  been  done  later  than  the  18th,  and  which  was  found 
among  his  papers. 

"  Most  gracious  Lord  God,  my  merciful  Father,  from 
my  youth  up,  my  Creator,  my  Redeemer,  my  Comforter. 


LIFE   OF   BACON.  279 

Thon  (0  Lord)  soundest  and  searchesfc  the  depths  and 
secrets  of  all  hearts  ;  thou  knowledgest  the  upright  of 
heart,  thou  judgest  the  hypocrit,  thou  ponderest  men's 
thoughts  and  doings  as  in  a  balance,  thou  measurest  their 
intentions  as  with  a  line,  vanity  and  crooked  ways  cannot 
be  hid  from  thee. 

"  Eemember  (0  Lord)  how  thy  servant  hath  walked 
before  thee  :  remember  what  I  have  first  sought,  and 
what  hath  been  principal  in  mine  intentions.  I  have 
loved  thy  assemblies,  I  have  mourned  for  the  divisions  of 
thy  Church,  I  have  delighted  in  the  brightness  of  thy 
sanctuary.  This  vine  which  thy  right  hand  hath  planted 
in  this  nation,  I  have  ever  prayed  unto  thee  that  it  might 
have  the  first  and  the  latter  rain  ;  and  that  it  might  stretch 
her  branches  to  the  seas  and  to  the  floods.  The  state  and 
bread  of  the  poor  and  oppressed  have  been  precious  in 
mine  eyes  :  I  have  hated  all  cruelty  and  hardness  of 
heart  :  I  have  (though  in  a  despised  weed)  procured  the 
good  of  all  men.  If  any  have  been  mine  enemies,  I 
thought  not  of  them  ;  neither  hath  the  sun  almost  sot 
upon  my  displeasure  ;  but  I  have  been  as  a  dove,  free 
from  superfluity  of  maliciousness.  Thy  creatures  have 
been  my  books,  but  thy  Scriptures  much  more.  I  have 
sought  thee  in  the  courts,  fields,  and  gardens,  but  I  have 
found  thee  in  thy  temples. 

"Thousand  have  been  my  sins,  and  ten  thousand  my 
transgressions  ;  but  thy  sanctifications  have  remained 
with  me,  and  my  heart,  through  thy  grace,  hath  been  an 
unquenched  coal  upon  thy  altar.  0  Lord,  my  strength, 
I  have  since  my  youth  met  with  thee  in  all  my  ways,  by 
thy  fatherly  compassions,  by  thy  comfortable  chastise- 
ments, and  by  thy  most  visible  providence.  As  thy 
favours  have  increased  upon  me,  so  have  thy  corrections  ; 
so  as  thou  hast  been  always  near  me,  0  Lord  ;  and  ever  as 
my  worldly  blessings  were  exalted,  so  secret  darts  from 
thee  have  pierced  me  ;  and  when  I  have  ascended  before 
men,  I  have  descended  in  humiliation  before  thee. 

"  And  now  when  I  thought  most  of  peace  and  honour, 
thy  hand  is  heavy  upon  me,  and  hath  humbled  me,  ac- 
cording to  thy  former  loving-kindness,  keeping  me  still 
in  thy  fatherly  school,  not  as  a  bastard,  but  as  a  child. 
Just  are  thy  judgments  upon  me  for  my  sins,  which  are 
more  in  number  than  the  sands  of  the  sea,  but  have  no 


280  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

proportion  to  thy  mercies  ;  for  what  are  the  sands  of  the 
sea,  to  the  sea,  earth,  heavens  ?  and  all  these  are  nothing 
to  tliy  mercies. 

"  Besides  my  innumerable  sins,  I  confess  before  thee, 
that  I  am  debtor  to  thee  for  the  gracious  talent  of  thy 
gifts  and  graces,  which  I  have  neither  put  in  a  napkin, 
nor  put  it  (as  I  ought)  to  exchangers,  where  it  might  have 
made  best  profit  ;  but  misspent  it  in  things  for  which  I 
was  least  fit  ;  so  as  I  may  truly  say,  my  soul  hath  been  a 
stranger  in  the  course  of  my  pilgrimage.  Be  merciful  unto 
me  (0  Lord)  for  my  Saviour's  sake,  and  receive  me  into 
thy  bosom  or  guide  me  in  thy  ways."  (Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  vii.,  p.  229.) 

He  seems  to  have  been  active  in  the  preparation  for  his 
defence  until  April  16th,  when  he  was  sent  for  by  the 
king.  He  now  at  once,  as  was  his  method  in  any  impor- 
tant matter,  prepared  minutes  for  the  interview,  in  which 
he  says  :  "  The  law  of  nature  teaches  me  to  speak  in  my 
own  defence.  With  respect  to  this  charge  of  bribery,  I  am 
as  innocent  as  any  born  upon  St.  Innocent's  day  :  I  never 
had  bribe  or  reward  in  my  eye  or  thought  when  pronounc- 
ing sentence  or  order.  If,  hoivever,  it  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary, the  king's  will  shall  be  obeyed.  I  am  ready  to  make 
an  oblation  of  myself  to  the  king,  in  whose  hands  I  am  as 
clay,  to  be  made  a  vessel  of  honour  or  dishonour."  (Works, 
vol.  i.,  p.  92.  And  upon  this  point  see  Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  vii.,  pp.  235-39.)     On  p.  235  he  says  : 

"  There  be  three  degrees  or  cases  of  bribery  charged  or 
supposed  in  a  judge  : 

"  ].  The  first,  of  bargain  or  contract  for  reward  to  per- 
vert justice,  i)endente  lite. 

"  2.  The  second,  where  the  judge  conceives  the  cause  to 
be  at  an  end  by  the  information  of  the  party,  or  otherwise, 
and  useth  not  such  diligence  as  he  ought  to  inquire  of  it. 

"  3.  And  the  third,  when  the  cause  is  really  ended,  and  it 
is  sine  frauds  without  relation  to  any  precedent  promise. 

"Now  if  I  might  see  the  particulars  of  my  charge, 
I  should  deal  plainly  with  your  Majesty,  in  whether  of 
these  degrees  every  particular  case  falls. 

"  But  for  the  first  of  them,  I  take  myself  to  be  as  inno- 
cent as  any  born  upon  St.  Innocent's  day.  In  my  heart. 

"  For  the  second,  I  doubt  in  some  particulars  I  may  be 
faulty. 


LIFE    OF    BACON".  281 

"And  for  the  last,  I  conceive  it  to  be  no  fault,  but 
therein  I  desire  to  be  better  informed,  that  I  may  be  twice 
penitent,  once  for  the  fact,  and  again  for  the  error.  For 
I  had  rather  be  a  briber,  than  a  defender  of  bribes. 

"  I  must  likewise  confess  to  your  Majesty  that  at  new- 
year's  tides  and  likewise  at  my  first  coming  in  (which 
was  as  it  were  my  wedding),  "l  did  not  so  precisely  as 
perhaps  I  ought  examine  whether  those  that  presented  me 
had  causes  before  me,  yea  or  no." 

And  from  notes,  p.  *237,  we  have  :  ''In  the  next  place, 
I  am  to  make  an  oblation  of  myself  into  his  Majesty's 
hands  :  that  as  I  wrote  to  him,  I  am  as  clay  in  Ms  hands, 
his  Majesty  may  make  a  vessel  of  honour  or  dishonour  of 
me,  as  I  find  favour  in  his  eyes,  and  that  I  submit  myself 
wholly  to  his  grace  and  mercy,  and  to  be  governed  botli 
in  my  cause  and  fortunes  by  his  direction  :  knowing  that 
his  heart  is  inscrutable  for  good.  Only  I  may  express 
myself  thus  far.  That  my  desire  is  that  the  thread  or  line 
of  my  life  may  be  no  longer  than  the  thread  or  line  of  my 
service  :  1  moan  that  I  may  be  of  use  to  your  Majesty  in 
one  kind  or  another." 

From  this  moment  his  defence  was  abandoned,  and  he 
was  thus  as  effectually  bound  as  if  in  chains.  Did  the 
king  as  an  inducement  to  this  step,  as  suggested  by  Will- 
iams, promise  financial  or  other  aid  in  his  philosophy? 
See  Williams'  advice  concerning  this.  What  particular 
influences  were  brought  to  bear  we  shall  probably  never 
fully  know,  though  bonnets  88,  89,  and. 90  will  yield  us 
light.     He  says  : 

"  When  thou  shalt  be  dispos'd  to  set  me  light, 

And  place  my  merit  in  the  eye  of  scorn, 

Upon  thy  side  against  myself  I'll  fight, 

And  prov^e  thee  virtuous,  though  thou  art  foresworn. 

With  mine  own  weakness  being  best  acquainted. 

Upon  thy  part  I  can  set  down  a  story 

Of  faults  conceal'd,  wherein  I  am  attainted  ; 

That  thou,  in  losing  me,  shalt  win  much  glory  : 

And  I  by  this  will  be  a  gainer  too  ; 

For  bending  all  my  loving  thoughts  on  thee. 

The  injuries  that  to  myself  I  do, 

Doing  thee  vantage,  double-vantage  me. 

Such  is  my  love,  to  thee  I  so  belong, 

That  for  thy  right  myself  will  bear  all  wrong."  ' 

'  At  the  time  of  Bacon's  troubles  Shakespeare  had  been  some  five 
years  in  his  grave.     Let  the  would-be  doubting  reader  here  exclude 


282  LIFE   OF   BACON. 

-"  Say  that  thou  didst  forsake  me  for  some  fault, 
And  I  will  comment  upon  that  offence  : 
Speak  of  my  lameness,  and  I  straight  will  halt, 
Against  thy  reasons  making  no  defence. 
Thou  canst  not,  love,  disgrace  me  half  so  ill 
To  set  a  form  upon  desired  change, 
As  I'll  mj'self  disgrace  :  knowing  thy  will, 
I  will  acquaintance  strangle,  and  look  -strange  ; 
Be  absent  from  thy  walks  ;  and  in  my  tongue 
Thy  sweet  beloved  name  no  more  shall  dwell. 
Lest  I  (too  much  profane)  should  do  it  wrong, 
And  haply  of  our  old  acquaintance  tell. 
For  thee,  against  myself  I'll  vow  debate  ; 
For  I  must  ne'er  love  him  whom  thou  dost  hate." 

*'  Then,  hate  me  when  thou  wilt  ;  if  ever  now  : 
Now,  while  the  world  is  bent  my  deeds  to  cross. 
Join  with  the  spite  of  fortune,  make  me  bow. 
And  do  not  drop  in  for  an  after-loss. 
Ah  !  do  not,  when  my  heart  hath  'scap'd  this  sorrow. 
Come  in  the  rearward  of  a  conquer 'd  woe  , 
Give  not  a  windy  night  a  rainy  morrow, 
To  linger  out  a  purpos'd  overthrow. 
If  thou  wilt  leave  me,  do  not  leave  me  lost. 
When  other  petty  griefs  have  done  their  si^ite  ; 
But  in  the  onset  come  :  so  shall  I  taste 
At  tirst  the  very  worst  of  fortune's  might  ; 
And  other  strains  of  w^oe,  which  now  seem  woe, 
Compar'd  with  loss  of  thee,  will  not  seem  so." 

Later,  to  Buckiiigliam,  he  writes  :  *'  My  offences  I  have 
myself  recorded  ;  wherein  I  studied  as  a  good  confessant, 
guiltiness  and  not  excuse  ;  and  therefore  I  hope  it  leaves 
me  fair  to  the  King's  grace,  and  will  turn  many  men's 
hearts  to  me.  As  for  my  debts,  I  showed  them  to  your 
Lordship  when  you  saw  the  little  house  and  the  gallery, 
besides  a  little   wood   or   desert,   which   you   saw  not 


» )  1 


from  consideration  what  has  been  said  of  the  sonnets  touching  the 
Tables  of  the  Instauration,  p.  97,  touching  the  Epitaph,  p.  115,  touch- 
ing a  Protestant  heir  to  the  throne  of  England,  p.  150,  touching  the 
Will  of  the  queen,  p.  205,  and  even  then  tell  us  how,  without  stulti- 
fying common  sense,  he  may  avoid  the  Baconian  theory  as  to  those 
now  to  be  reviewed. 

'  Did  Bacon  now  entertain  some  such  notions  as  he  puts  into  the 
mouth  of  Prince  Henry  the  Fifth  in  the  play  of  Henry  IV.,  part  1, 
Act  1.,  sc.  2,  p.  177,  where  we  have  : 

"  So,  when  this  loose  behavior  I  throw  off, 
And  pay  the  debt  I  never  promised, 
By  how  much  better  than  m^'  word  I  am. 
By  so  much  shall  I  falsify  men's  hopes  ; 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  283 

(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  396.)  And  in  a  still  later 
paper,  prepared  for  an  interview  with  Buckingham,  and 
which,  by  reason  of  its  importance,  we  give  in  full,  he 
says  :  , 

"  My  Lord  Marquis  :  Afllictions  are  truly  called 
trials.  Trials  of  a  man's  self,  and  trials  of  friends.  For 
the  first,  I  am  not  guilty  to  myself  of  any  unworthiness, 
except  perhaps  too  much  softness  in  the  beginning  of  my 
troubles.^  But  since,  I  praise  God  I  have  not  lived  like  a 
drone  nor  like  a  mal-content,  nor  like  a  man  confused  ; 
but  though  the  world  hath  taken  her  talent  from  me,  yet 
God's  talent  I  put  to  use. 

"  For  trial  of  friends,  he  cannot  have  many  that  hath 
chosen  to  rely  upon  one.  So  that  is  in  a  small  room,  end- 
ing in  yourself.  My  suit  therefore  to  you  is.  that  you 
would  now  upon  this  vouchsafed  conference  open  yourself 
to  me,  whether  I  stand  in  your  favour  and  affection  as  I 
have  done,  and  if  there  be  any  alteration,  M'hat  is  the 
cause,  and  if  none,  what  effects  I  may  expect  for  the 
future  of  your  friendship  and  favour,  my  state  being  not 
unknown  to  you. 

"  The  reasons,  why  I  should  doubt  of  your  Lordship's 
coolness  towards  me  or  falling  from  me,  are  either  out  of* 


And  like  bright  metal  on  a  sullen  ground, 
My  reformation,  glittering  o'er  my  fault, 
Shall  show  more  goodly,  and  attract  more  eyes, 
Than  that  which  hath  no  foil  to  set  it  off. 
I'll  so  offend,  to  make  offence  a  skill. 
Redeeming  time,  when  men  think  least  I  will." 

'  As  to  this  expression  "  to  myself,"  as  here  used,  we  from  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  120,  quote  thus  :  "  Indeed,  I  cannot  commend 
my  life,  for  I  am  conscious  to  myself  of  many  failings  therein." 
In  Hamlet,  Act  ill.,  sc.  2,  p.  290,  we  have  : 

"  Most  necessary  'tis,  that  we  forget 
To  pay  ourseWes  what  to  ourselves  is  debt  : 
What  to  ourselves  in  passion  we  propose. 
The  passion  ending,  doth  the  purpose  lose." 

'  Is  not  this  thought  in  keeping  with,  and  in  the  direct  line  of, 
these  sonnets  ? 

*  This  use  of  the  words  "  out  of,"  as  "  out  of  judgment,"  "  out 
of  hope,"  "out  of  doubt,"  "out  of  countenance,"  etc.,  occur 
throughout  this  literature.  In  Othello,  Act  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  515,  we 
have  : 

"  Gas.  This  is  the  monkey's  own  giving  out  :  she  is  persuaded  I 


284  LIFE   OF   BACON. 

judgment  and  discourse,  or  out  of  experience  and  some- 
what that  I  find.  My  judgment  telleth  that  when  a  man 
is  out  of  sight  and  out  of  use,  it  is  a  nobleness  somewhat 
above  this  age  to  continue  a  constant  friend  :  That  some 
that  are  thought  to  have  your  ear  or  more  love  me  not, 
and  may  either  disvalue  me,  or  distaste  your  Lordship 
with  me.  Besides,  your  Lordship  hath  now  so  many 
either  new-purchased  friends  or  reconciled  enemies,  as 
there  is  scarce  room  for  an  old  friend  specially  set  aside. 
And  lastly,  I  may  doubt  that  that  for  which  1  was  fittest, 
which  was  to  carry  things  suavibus  modis,  and  not  to 
bristle  or  undertake  or  give  ventrous  counsels,  is  out  of 
fashion  and  request. 

"  As  for  that  I  find,  your  Lordship  knoweth  as  well  as 
I  what  promises  you  made  me,  and  iterated  them  both  by 
message  and  from  your  mouth,  consisting  of  three  things, 
the  pardon  of  the  whole  sentence,  some  help  for  my  debts, 
and  an  annual  [pension]  which  your  Lordship  ever  set  at 
£2000  as  obtained,  and  £3000  in  hope.'  Of  these  being 
promises  undesired  as  well  as  favours  unreserved,  there  is 
effected  only  the  remission  of  the  fine,  and  the  pardon 
now  stayed.  From  me  I  know  there  hath  proceeded 
nothing  that  may  cause  the  change.  These  I  lay  before 
you,  desiring  to  know  what  I  may  hope  for  ;  for  hojies 
are  racks, '■'  and  your  Lordship  that  would  not  condemn 
me  to  the  Tower  I  know  will  not  condemn  me  to  the  rack. 

"  I  have,  though  it  be  a  thing  trivial,  and  that  at  a 
coronation  one  might  have  it  for  five  marks  and  after  a 
Parliament  for  nothing,  yet  have  great  reason  to  desire  it, 
specially  being  now  stirred.  Two  chiefly  ;  first  because 
I  have  been  so  safted,  and  now  it  is  time  there  were  an 
end.  Secondly,  because  I  mean  to  live  a  retired  life,  and 
so  cannot  be  at  hand  to  shake  off  every  clamour. 

"  For  any  offence  the  Parliament  should  take  ;  it  is 
rather  honour,  that  in  a  thing  wherein  the  king  is  abso- 
lute, yet  he  will  not  interpose  in  that  which  the  Parlia- 

will  marry  her,  out  of  her  own  love  and  flattery,  not  out  of  my 
promise." 

'  We  may  here  see  methods  taken  to  induce  Bacon  to  abandon  his 
defence,  including  a  promise  of  pardon  "  of  the  whole  sentence." 
"^  ' '  Bass.  Let  me  choose  ; 

For,  as  I  am,  I  live  upon  the  ruck." 

— Merchant  of  Venice,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  76. 


LIFE    OF    BACON".  285 

ment  hath  handled,  and  the  king  hath  already  restored 
judicature,  after  a  long  intermission,  but  for  matter  of 
his  grace,  his  Majesty  shall  have  reason  to  keep  it  entire. 

"  I  do  not  think  any  except  a  Turk  or  Tartar  would 
wish  to  have  another  chop  out  of  me.  Bat  the  best  is,  it 
will  be  found  there  is  a  time  for  envy  and  a  time  for  pity, 
and  cold  fragments  will  not  serve  if  the  stomach  be  on 
edge.'  For  me,  if  they  judge  by  that  which  is  past,  they 
judge  of  the  weather  of  this  year  by  an  almanack  of  the 
old  year  ;  they  rather  repent  of  that  they  ha\e  done,  and 
think  they  have  but  served  the  turns  of  the  few." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  pp.  312-15.) 

Sonnet  118 — see  p.  274 — was  doubtless  written  after  he 
found  himself  withm  the  trap. 

Keflecting  upon  what  he  had  agreed  to  do  as  to  his  de- 
fence, after  the  mentioned  interview  with  the  king,  he  in 
Sonnet  113  says  : 

"  Since  I  left  you,  mine  eye  is  in  my  mind, 
And  that  which  governs  me  to  go  about 
Doth  part  his  function,  and  is  partly  blind  ; 
Seems  seeing,  but  effectually  is  out  ; 
For  it  no  form  delivers  to  the  heart 
Of  bird,  of  flower,  or  shape,  which  it  doth  latch  : 
Of  his  quick  objects  hath  the  mind  no  part. 
Nor  his  own  vision  holds  what  it  doth  catch  ; 
For  if  it  see  the  rud'st  or  gentlest  sight, 
The  most  sweet  favour,  or  deformed 'st  creature, 
The  mountain  or  tlie  sea,  the  day  or  night, 
The  crow  or  dove,  it  shapes  them  to  your  feature  : 
Incapable  of  more,  replete  witli  you, 
My  most  true  mind  thus  malieth  mine  untrue."  ^ 

He  here  tells  the  king  that  by  being  true  to  him,  he 
makes  his  own  mind  untrue,  and  so  stultifies  it  that  it 
seems  to  receive  or  retain  his  features  only.  What  known 
facts  in  the  life  of  William  Shakespeare  could  have  called 
to  expression  these  feelings  and  in  the  line  here  portrayed? 

Bacon,  as  we  have  seen,  was  ever  of  the  opinion  that  the 
crown  should  from  the  king's  own  errors  be  shielded,  and 

1  Note  the  use  of  this  word  "  edge"  in  the  plays.  In  Hamlet,  Act 
iii.,  sc.  1,  p.  274,  we  have  : 

"  Good  gentlemen,  give  him  a  further  edge. 
And  drive  his  purpose  on  to  these  delights." 

"  Promus,  1151.  (I  was  dumb  and  was  cast  down,  I  held  my 
peace  even  from  good  ;  and  my  sorrow  was  renewed.) 


286  LIFE    OF    BACON". 

this  though  at  the  sacrifice,  if  need  be,  of  any  of  his  min- 
isters. 

Before  these  troubles,  and  even  as  early  as  1605,  he  in 
the  Advancement  of  Learning  says  : 

'*  Another  fault  likewise  much  of  this  kind  hath  been 
incident  to  learned  men,  which  is,  that  they  have  esteemed 
the  preservation,  good,  and  honour  of  their  countries  or 
masters  before  their  own  fortunes  or  safeties.  For  so  said 
Demosthenes  unto  the  Athenians  :  '  If  it  please  you  to 
note  it,  my  counsels  unto  you  are  not  such  whereby  I 
should  grow  great  amongst  you,  and  you  become  little 
amongst  the  Grecians  :  but  they  be  of  tbat  nature,  as  they 
are  sometimes  not  good  for  me  to  give,  but  are  always 
good  for  you  to  follow.'  And  so  ISeneca,  after  he  had 
consecrated  that  Quinquennium  Neronis  to  the  eternal 
glory  of  learned  governors,  held  on  his  honest  and  loyal 
course  of  good  and  free  counsel,  after  his  master  grew 
extremely  corrupt  in  his  government.  Neither  can  this 
point  otherwise  be  ;  for  learning  endaeth  men's  minds 
with  a  true  sense  of  the  frailty  of  their  persons,  the 
casualty  of  their  fortunes,  and  the  dignity  of  their  soul 
and  vocation  :  so  tbat  it  is  impossible  for  them  to  esteem 
that  any  greatness  of  their  own  fortune  can  be  a  true  and 
worthy  end  of  their  being  and  ordainment ;  and  therefore 
are  desirous  to  give  their  account  to  God,  and  so  likewise 
to  their  masters  under  God  (as  kings  and  the  states  that 
they  serve)  in  these  words  ;  '  Ecce  tibi  lucrefeci,'  and 
not  '  Ecce  mihi  lucrefeci  ;'  whereas  the  corrupter  sort  of 
mere  politicians,  that  have  not  their  thoughts  established 
by  learning  in  the  love  and  apprehension  of  duty,  nor 
ever  look  abroad  into  universality,  do  refer  all  things  to 
themselves,  and  thrust  themselves  into  the  center  of  the 
world,  as  if  all  lines  should  meet  in  them  and  their  for- 
tunes ;  never  caring,  in  all  tempests,  what  becomes  of  the 
ship  of  state,  so  they  may  save  themselves  in  the  cockboat 
of  their  own  fortunes  :  whereas  men  that  feel  the  weight 
of  duty,'  and  know  the  limits  of  self-love,  use  to  make 

'  Already  have  we  called  atteation  to  the  emphasis  placed  in  these 
writings  upon  the  subject  of  daty,  and  in  Hamlet,  Act  ii.,  sc.  2,  p. 
247,  Polonius  is  made  to  say  : 

"  I  hold  my  duty,  as  I  hold  my  soul, 
Both  to  my  God,  and  to  my  gracious  king  ; 


LIFE   OF    BACON.  287 

good  their  places  and  duties,  though  with  peril  ;  and  if 
they  stand  in  seditions  and  violent  alterations,  it  is  rather 
the  reverence  which  many  times  both  adverse  parts  do  give 
to  honesty,  than  any  versatile  advantage  of  their  own 
carriage.  But  for  this  point  of  tender  sense,  and  fast 
obligation  of  duty  which  learning  doth  endue  the  mind 
withal,  howsoever  fortune  may  tax  it,  and  many  in  the 
depth  of  their  corrupt  principles  may  despise  it,  yet  it 
will  receive  an  open  allowance,  and  therefore,  needs  the 
less  disproof  or  excursion."     (Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  168.) 

And  thus  in  the  abandonment  of  his  defence  may  we 
see  that  Bacon  was  true  to  his  own  teachings.  But  his 
feelings  touching  its  effects  upon  his  child,  his  philoso- 
phy, may  be  somewhat  realized  in  Sonnets  124  and  125, 
p.  99. 

The  words  "suborned  informer,"  used  in  the  second 
of  the  mentioned  sonnets,  probably  refer  to  Lionel  Cran- 
field,  to  be  referred  to  hereafter,  and  made  Lord  Treasurer 
in  October  of  this  year,  or  possibly  to  one  Churchill,  who 
is  said  to  have  been  an  infamous  forger  of  chancery  orders, 
and  as  such  dismissed  from  the  Chancery  Court  for  extor- 
tion. 

These  persons  interested  themselves  in  hunting  out 
charges  against  him.  The  word  "  oblation"  in  this  son- 
net is  Bacon's  word  to  the  king  in  the  mentioned  inter- 
view, and  used  in  the  same  sense.  The  day  following  the 
interview,  and  on  April  17th,  the  House  convened,  and 
which  had  adjourned  March  27th  for  an  Easter  vacation. 
A  brief  account  of  the  king's  interview  with  Bacon  was 
then  given,  and  was  ordered  to  be  entered  upon  the 
journals  of  the  House.  Coke  is  said  to  have  been  now 
most  jubilant  in  his  ridicule  about  "  Instauratio  Magna." 
The  true  "  Instauratio"  was  to  restore  laws,  etc.  The  next 
day  Bacon  wrote  thus  to  Buckingham  : 

"  My  very  good  Lord  :  I  hear  yesterday  was  a  day  of 
very  great  honour  to  his  majesty,  which  I  do  congratu- 
late. I  hope,  also,  his  majesty  may  reap  honour  out  of 
my  adversity,  as  he  hath  done  strength  out  of  my  pros- 
perity.    His  majesty  knows  best  his  own  ways  ;  and  for 

And  I  do  tliink  (or  else  this  brain  of  mine 
Hunts  not  the  trail  of  policy  so  sure 
As  it  hath  us'd  to  do)  that  I  have  found 
The  very  cause  of  Hamlet's  lunacy." 


288  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

me  to  despair  of  liim,  were  a  sin  not  to  be  forgiven.  I 
thank  God,  I  have  overcome  the  bitterness  of  this  cup  by 
Christian  resolution,  so  that  worldly  matters  are  but  mint 
and  cumin.  God  ever  jireserve  you."  (Works,  vol.  iii., 
p.  159.) 

The  Lords  by  means  of  their  committees  now  took  the 
matter  from  the  Commons,  the  original  accusers,  and 
thus,  as  it  were,  became  the  prosecutors.  The  king's 
son,  Prince  Charles,  was  on  the  22d  entrusted  by  Bacon 
witli  a  letter  to  the  House  of  Lords,  in  which  he  con- 
sented to  abandon  his  defence,  indicating  in  it,  and,  what 
had  doubtless  been  assured  him  by  the  king,  that  he  hoped 
the  loss  of  the  seals  only  would  be  the  penalty.  (Works, 
vol.  i.,  p.  94.)  On  the  morning  of  the  24th  the  king  ad- 
dressed the  House  in  a  speech  which  showed  a  full  inten- 
tion to  conform  to  the  popular  humor,  and  in  the  after- 
noon the  prince  presented  the  mentioned  letter  by  Bacon 
of  the  22d. 

Bacon  was  now  within  the  trap.  The  Lords  influenced 
not  simply  by  Coke  and  Southampton,  but  by  that  element 
of  which  Somerset  had  been  the  foreground,  purposed  that 
his  submission  should  be  in  their  own  way.  Buckingham 
had  even  thus  early,  we  think,  his  eye  upon  York  House. 
Church  in  his  Life  of  Bacon,  p.  140,  says  :  "  Buckingham 
kept  up  ap])earances  by  saying  a  word  for  him  from  time 
to  time  in  Parliament,  which  he  knew  would  be  useless, 
and  which  he  certainly  took  no  measures  to  make  effective. 
It  is  sometimes  said  that  Buckingham  never  knew  what 
dissimulation  was.  He  was  capable,  at  least,  of  the  per- 
fidity  and  cowardice  of  utter  selfishness.  Bacon's  con- 
spicuous fall  diverted  men's  thoughts  from  the  far  more 
scandalous  wickedness  of  the  great  favorite."  As  to  his 
character  and  influence  over  the  king,  see  Hume,  vol.  iv., 
pp.  65-73. 

But  it  was  now  too  late  for  Bacon  to  retrace  his  steps. 
"  No  word  of  confession  of  any  corruption  in  the  Lord 
Chancellor's  submission,"  said  Southampton,  and  who 
seemed  as  if  itching  for  investigation.  He  says  :  "  It 
stands  with  the  justice  and  honour  of  this  House  not  to 
proceed  without  the  party's  particular  confession  or  to 
have  the  party  to  hear  the  charge  and  we  to  hear  the 
party's  answers."  But,  said  Lord  Pembrook,  "  Shall  the 
Great  Seal  come  to  the  bar?"     The  Lords  now  required 


LIFE    OF    BACON".  289 

that  the  Chancellor  be  particularly  charged,  that  he  be 
required  to  make  specific  answers  to  each,  and  with  all 
convenient  speed.  This  answer  Bacon  at  once  prepared, 
and  caused  to  be  delivered  to  the  Lords  April  oOtb,  and 
which  the  reader  should  examine  with  some  care.  He 
saw  what  they  purposed  to  have,  and  so  gave  it  them. 
Some  of  these  gifts  were  New  Year's  presents  from  wealthy 
people.  They  were  made  mostly  after  the  causes  were  ter- 
minated, and  in  which  case  Bacon  says  he  regarded  it  no 
fault,  TliJs  had  been  a  custom  with  the  early  chancellors 
and  so  until  his  day.  Even  in  the  Egerton  case  it  seems 
tliat  the  award  had  been  made,  though  not  published  at 
the  receiving  of  the  present. 

Church  in  his  work,  p.  137,  says  :  "  Yet  it  is  strange 
tliat  they  should  not  have  observed  that  not  a  smgle  charge 
of  a  definitely  unjust  decision  was  brought,  at  any  rate 
was  proved  against  him.  He  had  taken  money  they 
argued,  and  therefore  he  must  be  corrupt  ;  but  if  he  had 
taken  money  to  pervert  judgment,  some  instance  of  the 
iniquity  woiild  certainly  'iiave  been  brought  forward  and 
proved.  Tliere  is  no  such  instance  to  be  found  ;  though, 
of  course,  there  Avere  plenty  of  dissatisfied  suitors  ;  of 
course  the  men  who  had  paid  their  money  and  lost  then- 
cause  were  furious.  But  in  v-ain  do  we  look  for  any  case 
of  proved  injustice.  The  utmost  that  can  be  said  is  that 
in  some  cases  he  showed  favour  in  pushing  forward  and 
expediting  suits.  So  that  the  real  charge  against  Bacon 
assumes,  to  us  who  have  not  to  deal  practically  with  dan- 
gerous abuses,  but  to  judge  conduct  and  character,  a  differ- 
ent complexion.  Instead  of  being  the  wickedness  of  per- 
verting justice  and  selling  his  judgments  for  bribes,  it 
takes  the  shape  of  allowing  and  sharing  in  a  dishonorable 
and  mischievous  system  of  payment  for  services,  which 
could  not  fail  to  bring  with  it  temptation  and  discredit, 
and  in  which  fair  reward  could  not  be  distinguished  from 
unlawful  gain.  Such  a  system  it  was  high  time  to  stop  ; 
and  in  this  rough  and  harsh  way,  which  also  satisfied  some 
personal  enmities,  it  was  stcipped.  We  may  put  aside  for 
good  the  charge  on  which  he  was  condemned,  and  which 
in  words  he  admitted— of  being  corrupt  as  a  judge.  His 
real  fault— and  it  was  a  great  one— was  that  he  did  not  in 
time  open  his  eyes  to  the  wrongness  and  e\il,  patent  to 
every  one,  and  to  himself  as  soon  as  pointed  out,  of  the 
10 


290  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

traditional  fashion  in  his  court  of  eking  out  by  irregular 
gifts  the  salary  of  such  an  office  as  his."  * 

It  was  now  expected  that  he  would  come  to  the  bar  of 
the  House  to  receive  his  sentence,  but  he  was  found  too 
ill  to  leave  his  bed.  It  was  thought,  indeed,  that  he  would 
not  survive  the  struggle,  and  on  May  3d  the  Lords  pro- 
ceeded to  fix  the  sentence  in  his  absence.  Every  extremity 
was  talked  of.  Coke,  whose  hand  had  been  prominent  in 
every  feature  of  the  case,  cited  in  the  Commons  precedents 
where  judges  had  been  hanged  for  bribery.  To  this  the 
Lords  would  not  listen.  Lord  Arundel  said  :  "  His  offence 
foul  ;  his  confession  pitiful.  Life  not  to  be  touched." 
Southampton  asked  that  he  should  at  least  be  degraded 
from  the  peerage,  and  asked  whether  "he  whom  this 
House  thinks  unfit  to  be  a  constable  should  come  to  the 
Parliament." 

The  sentence  fixed  upon  was  a  fine  of  £40,000  and 
imprisonment  in  the  Tower  during  the  king's  pleasure. 
He  was  to  be  incapable  of  any  otfice,  place,  or  employment 
in  the  State  or  Commonwealth.  He  Avas  never  to  sit  in 
Parliament,  nor  come  within  the  verge  of  the  court.  This 
last  provision  excluded  him  from  London.  He  had  been 
induced  to  abandon  his  defence  in  order  to  stay  disclosures 
and  to  shield  the  king,  and  this  was  the  result.'^ 

Having  observed  the  feelings  manifested  toward  him, 
he  the  day  previous  to  the  sentence  wTote  to  the  king 
asking  that  he,  Buckingham,  and  the  Prince,  would  unite 
to  avert  the  sentence  further  than  the  loss  of  the  seal, 
and  he  concludes  the  letter  thus  : 

"  This  is  my  last  suit  that  I  shall  make  to  your  majesty 
in  this  business,  prostrating  myself  at  your  mercy-seat, 
after  fifteen  years'  service,  wherein  I  have  served  your 
majesty  in  my  poor  endeavours,  with  an  entire  heart. 
And,  as  I  presume  to  say  unto  your  majesty,  am  still  a 
virgin,'  for  matters  that  concern  your  person  or  crown, 

'As  to  great  persons,  Bacon  in  bis  essay  entitled  "Of  Great 
Place"  says:  "For  tliey  are  the  first  to  find  their  own  griefs, 
though  they  be  the  last  to  find  theft  own  faults." 

^  This  permitting  Parliament  to  chastise  a  minister  of  the  crown 
was  all  important  upon  the  question  of  civil  liberty.  The  crown 
could  never  after  be  regarded  as  the  sun  of  the  governmental 
system. 

^  In  many  places  in  his  works  Bacon  refers  to  himself  as  a  virgin. 


LIFE    OF    BACON".  291 

and  now  only  craving  that  after  eight  steps  of  honour, 
I  be  not  precipitated  altogether. 

"  But,  because  he  that  hath  taken'  hribes  is  apt  to  give 
bribes,  I  will  go  further,  and  present  your  majesty  witli 
bribe  ;'  for  if  your  majesty  give  me  peace  and  leisure,  and 
God  give  me  life,  I  will  present  yon  with  a  good  history 
of  England,  and  a  better  digest  of  your  laws.  And  so 
concluding  with  my  prayers,  t  rest  Clay  in  your  majesty's 
hands."     (Works,  vol.  lii.,  p.  183.) 

The  king  made  no  effort  either  to  stay  or  to  mitigate 
the  sentence,  but  seemed  now  inclined  to  shun  him,  and 
concerning  which,  ho  in  Sonnet  49  says  : 

"  Against  that  time,  if  ever  that  time  come, 
When  I  shall  see  thee  frown  on  my  defects, 
When  as  thy  love  hath  cast  his  utmost  sum, 
Call'd  to  that  audit  byadvis'd  respects  ;' 
Against  that  time,  when  thou  shalt  strangely  pass, 
And  scarcely  greet  me  with  that  sun,  thine  eye  ; 
When  love,  converted  from  the  thing  it  was, 
Shall  reasons  find  of  settled  gravity  ; — 
Against  that  time  do  I  ensconce  me  here 
Within  the  knowledge  of  mine  own  desert, 
And  this  my  hand  against  myself  uprear, 
To  guard  the  lawful  reasons  on  thy  part : 
To  leave  poor  me  thou  hast  the  strength  of  laws, 
Since,  why  to  love,  I  can  allege  no  cause. ' ' 

Bacon  now  in  Sonnet  111,  as  in  many  places  in  his 
writings,  laments  his  entry  into  public  life.     He  says  : 

"  O  !  for  my  sake  do  you  with  Fortune  chide, 
The  guilty  goddess  of  my  harmful  deeds, 
That  did  not  better  for  uiy  life  provide. 
Than  public  means,  which  public  mauners  breeds. 
Thence  comes  it  that  my  name  receives  a  brand,^ 
And  almost  thence  my  nature  is  subdued 
To  what  it  works  in,  like  the  dyer's  hand. 

'  We  think  this  shows  how  little  he  felt  himself  guilty  of  the 
offence  charged. 

_'^  We  understand  him  here  to  say  that  he  came  to  this  audit  on  the 
king's  own  advice.  "Note  in  these  sonnets,  and  everywhere  in  these 
writings,  a  kind  of  distinctive  use  of  the  word  "  against."  Bacon 
says  :  "  It  is  usually  practised,  to  set  trees  that  require  much  sun 
upon  walls  against  the  south  ;  as  apricots,  peaches,  plums,  vines, 
figs,  and  the  like."     (Sub.  430  of  Bacon's  Natural  History.) 

*  And  what  brand,  please,  upon  the  name  of  William  Shake- 
speare ? 


292  LIFE   OF   BACON. 

Pity  me,  then,  and  wish  I  were  renew 'd. 
Whilst,  like  a  willing  patient,  I  will  drink 
Potions  of  e3'sell  'gainst  my  strong  infection  : 
No  bitterness  that  I  will  bitter  think, 
Nor  double  penance,  to  correct  correction. 
Pity  nie,  then,  dear  friend  ;  and  I  assure  ye. 
Even  that  your  pity  is  enough  to  cure  me." 

AVilliams,  the  giver  of  the  crafty  advice  against  Bacon, 
now  steps  into  his  shoes  as  Chancellor  of  England.  Bacon's 
state  of  healthy  coupled  with  his  now  treatment  by  the 
king,  finds  expression  in  Sonnets  140,  147,  and  148.  He 
says  : 

"  Be  wise  as  thou  art  cruel  ;  do  not  press 
My  tongue-tied  patience  with  too  much  disdain  ; 
Lest  sorrow  lend  me  words,  and  words  express 
The  manner  of  my  pity-wanting  pain. 
If  I  might  teach  thee  wit,  better  it  were, 
Though  not  to  love,  yet,  love,  to  tell  me  so  ; 
As  testy  sick  men,  when  their  deaths  be  near. 
No  news  but  health  from  their  phj'sicians  know  : 
Por,  if  I  should  despair,  I  shoiUd  grow  mad, 
And  in  my  madness  might  speak  ill  of  thee  : 
Now  this  ill-wresting  world  is  grown  so  bad. 
Mad  slanderers  by  mad  ears  believed  be. 
That  I  may  not  be  so,  nor  thou  belied. 
Bear  thine  eyes  straight,  though  thy  proud  heart  go  wide."  ^ 

"  My  love  is  as  a  fever,  longing  still 
For  that  wliich  longer  nurseth  the  disease  ; 
Feeding  on  that  wliich  doth  preserve  the  ill, 
Th'  uncertain  sickly  appetite  to  please.* 
My  reason,  the  physician  to  my  love, 
Angry  that  his  prescriptions  are  not  kept. 
Hath  left  me  ;  and  I  desperate  now  approve. 
Desire  is  death,  which  physic  did  except. 
Past  cure  I  am,  now  reason  is  past  care. 
And  frantic  mad  with  ever-more  unrest  : 
j\Iy  thoughts  and  my  discourse  as  madmen's  are. 
At  random  from  the  truth  vainly  express 'd  ; 
For  I  have  sworn  thee  fair,  and  thought  thee  bright. 
Who  art  as  black  as  hell,  as  dark  as  night." 

'  Promus,  594.  {Hold  your  friend  tifiTitly  by  the  face.) 
'  Though  a  man  of  tirm  and  unyielding  convictions,  Lord  Bacon 
had  still  an  unbounded  desire  to  please  and  to  be  of  service  to  others. 
The  impoitance  which  he  claimed  seems  chiefly  for  his  work,  not 
for  his  person.  He  did  not  permit  himself  easily  to  take  offence, 
and  his  nature  seems  to  have  possessed  little  of  the  elements  of 
revenge.  His  ends  he  sought  to  move  chietiy  through  others,  mak- 
ing them  pliant  instruments  by  yielding  to  their  huniois  and  foibles. 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  293 

"  O  me  !  what  eyes  hath  love  put  in  my  hcarl, 
Which  have  no  correspondence  witli  true  siglit  ! 
Or,  if  they  have,  where  is  my  judgment  fled, 
Tliat  censures  falsely  what  they  see  aright  ? 
If  that  be  fair  whereon  my  false  eyes  dote, 
What  means  the  world  to  say  it  is  not  so  ? 
If  it  be  not,  then  love  doth  well  denote 
Love's  eye  is  not  so  true  as  all  men's  no. 
How  can  it  ?     O  !  how  can  Love's  eye  be  true, 
That  is  so  vex'd  with  watching  and  with  tears  ? 
No  marvel,  then,  though  I  mistake  my  view  ; 
The  sun  itself  sees  not,  till  heaven  clears. 
O,  cunning  Love  !  with  tears  thou  keep'st  me  blind, 
Lest  eyes  well-seeiog  thy  foul  faults  should  tind." 

As  Bacon's  feelings  must  have  vent,  and  as  he  would 
not  make  them  public,  so  he  talked  them  into  these 
sonnets,  as  well  as  into  Defoe  articles,  yet  to  be  re- 
viewed. We  do  not  say  that  these  sonnets  came  to  the 
king's  eyes,  though  some  of  them  probably  did.  On 
account  of  Bacon's  health  his  imprisonment  was  delayed 
until  May  31st.  But  no  sooner  had  he  gone  to  the  Tower 
than  he  wrote  thus  to  Buckingham  : 

"  Good  my  Loud  :  Procure  the  warrant  for  my  dis- 
charge this  day.  Death,  I  thank  God,  is  so  far  from  being 
unwelcome  to  me,  as  I  have  called  for  it  (as  Christian 
resolution  would  jiermit)  any  time  these  two  months. 
But  to  die  before  the  time  of  his  majesty's  grace,  and  in 
this  disgraceful  place,  is  even  the  worst  that  could  be  ; 
and  when  I  am  dead,'  he  is  gone  that  was  always  in  one 
tenor,  a  true  and  perfect  servant  to  his  master,  and  one 
that  was  never  author  of  any  immoderate,  no,  nor  unsafe, 
no  (I  will  say  it),  not  unfortunate  counsel  ;  and  one  that 
no  temptation  could  ever  make  other  than  a  trusty,  and 
honest,  and  Christ-loving  friend  to  your  lordship  ;  and 
howsoever  I  acknowledge  the  sentence  just,  and  for  refor- 
mation sake  fit,  the  justcst  chancellor  tliat  hath  been  in 
the  five  changes  since  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon's  time.  God 
bless  and  prosper  your  lordship,  whatever  becomes  of  me. 
Your  lordship's  true  friend,"  etc.  (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p. 
169.) 

Had  not  the  peremptory  first  line  of  this  letter  been 
complied  with,  we  judge  that  an  explosion  would  now  have 
occurred.     But  it  was  at  once  obeyed,  as  may  be  seen  by 

'  Please  see  in  this  connection  Sonnet  71. 


294  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

his  letter  to  Prince  Charles  the  next  day,  June  1st,  and  in 
whom,  for  his  philosophy,  he  now  hegan  to  centre  hopes 
for  the  future.     (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  183.) 

At  Buckingham's  first  appearance  at  court,  it  is  said 
that  he  was  so  poor  that  he  had  to  borrow  money  with 
which  to  buy  himself  an  outfit.  Touching  the  foregoing 
letter  and  this  thought  we  quote  Sonnet  66.     He  says  : 

"  Tir'd  with  all  these,  for  restful  death  I  cry  ; — 
As  to  behold  desert  a  beggar  born. 
And  needy  nothing  trimm'd  in  jollity, 
And  purest  faith  unlinppilj'  foresworn. 
And  gilded  honour  shamefully  misplac'd. 
And  maiden  virtue  rudely  strumpeted, 
And  riglit  perfection  wrongfully  disgrac'd. 
And  strength  bj^  limping'  sway  disabled. 
And  art  made  tongue-tied  by  authority. 
And  folly  (doctor-like)  controlling  skill, 
And  simple  truth  miscall'd  simplicity. 
And  captive  good  attending  captain  ill  : 
Tir'd  with  all  these,  from  these  would  I  be  gone, 
Save  that,  to  die,  I  leave  my  love  alone." 

"  Love"  as  here  used  refers,  we  think,  to  his  literary 
work,  to  his  philosophy,  to  his  Miranda  of  The  Tempest. 
Til  is  it  was  that  gave 

"  An  undergoing  stomach,  to  boar  up 
Against  what  should  ensue." — Act  i.,  sc.  2,  p.  27. 

The  word  "  thee,"  in  Sonnet  29,  also  alludes,  we  think, 
to  his  philosophy.     He  says  : 

"  "When,  in  disgrace  with  fortune  and  men's  eyes, 
I  all  alone  beweep  my  outcast  state, 
And  trouble  deaf  lieapen  with  my  bootless  cries. 
And  look  upon  myself,  and  curse  my  fate  ; 
Wishing  me  like  to  one  more  rich  in  hope, 
Featur'd  like  him,  like  him  with  friends  possess'd. 
Desiring  this  man's  art,  and  that  man's  scope. 
With  what  I  most  enjoy  contented  least  ; 
Yet  in  these  thoughts  myself  almost  despising  ; 
Ilapl}'  I  think  on  thee,  and  then  m}'  stale, 
Like  to  the  lark  at  break  of  day  arising 
From  sullen  earth,  sings  hymns  at  heaven's  gate  : 
For  thy  sweet  lore  rememljer'd  such  wealth  brings, 
That  tiien  I  scorn  to  change  my  state  with  kings." 

Sonnets  67  and  70  are  in  the  same  line.     He  says  : 

>  "  Here  man's  power  limps,  as  it  were,  with  one  leg."  (Novum 
Organ  um,  Aph.  49,  Book  2.) 


LIFE    OF   BACON".  295 

"  Ah  !  wherefore  with  Infection  should  lie  live, 
And  with  his  presence  grace  impiety, 
That  sin  by  him  advantage  should  achieve. 
And  lace  itself  with  his  society  ? 
Why  should  false  painting  imitate  his  cheek. 
And  steal  dead  seeing  of  his  living  hue  ? 
Why  sliould  poor  Ijeauty  indirectlj"^  seek 
Roses  of  shadow,  since  his  rose  is  true  ? 
Why  should  he  live,  now  nature  bankrupt  is, 
Beggar'd  of  blood  to  blush  through  lively  veins  ' 
For  she  hath  no  exchequer  now  but  his. 
And,  pruiid  of  nianj^  lives  upon  his  gains. 
O  !  lum  she  stores,  to  show  what  wealth  she  had. 
In  days  long  since,  before  these  last  so  bad." 

"  That  thou  art  blani'd,  shall  not  be  thy  defect. 
For  slander's  mark  was  ever  yet  the  fair  ; 
The  ornament  of  beauty  is  suspect,' 
A  crow  that  flies  in  heaven's  sweetest  air. 
So  thou  be  good,  slander  doth  but  approve 
Thy  worth  the  greater,  being  woo'd  of  time  ; 
For  canker  vice  tlie  sweetest  buds  doth  love, 
And  thou  present'st  a  pure,  unstained  prime. 
Thou  hast  pass'd  by  tlie  ambush  of  young  days, 
Either  not  assail'd  or  victor  being  charg'd  ; 
Yet  this  thy  praise  cannot  be  so  thy  praise, 
To  tie  up  envy,  evermore  enlarg'd  : 
If  some  suspect  of  ill  mask'd  not  thy  show. 
Then  thou  alone  kingdoms  of  hearts  shouldst  owe." 

It  is  not  improbable  that  the  production  of  the  first  of 
these  two  sonnets  may  have  occupied  Bacon's  tlioughts 
while  at  the  Tower,  and  his  quick  release  may  have  in- 
duced him  to  think  himself  hasty.  It  at  least  gave  hope 
of  being  now  restored  to  favor,  or  at  least  to  favors,  for  on 
June  4th  he  wrote  thus  to  the  king  : 

"  It  may  please  yolr  most  excellent  Majesty  :  I 
hnmbly  thank  your  majesty  for  my  liberty,  without  which 
timely  grant,  any  further  grace  wonid  have  come  too  late. 
But  your  majesty,  that  did  shed  tears  in  the  beginning  of 
my  troubles,  will,  I  hope,  shed  the  dew  of  your  grace  and 
goodness  upon  me  in  the  end.     Let  me  live  to  serve  you, 

'  This  distinctive  and  unusual  use  of  the  word  "  suspect"  may  be 
found  in  many  places  in  Bacon's  writings.  He  says  that  "  I  do  in 
no  sort  prejudge,  being  ignorant  of  the  cause,  but  take  him  as  the 
law  takes  him  for  a  suspect. "  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  v.,  p.  218.)  In 
his  essay  on  "  Praise"  he  says  :  "  There  be  so  many  false  points  of 
praise,  that  one  may  justly  hold  it  a  suspect." 


296  LIFE   OF   BACON. 

else  life  is  but  the  shadow  of  death  to  your  majesty's  most 
devoted  servant."     (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  184.) 

A  glimpse  of  this  king's  methods  with  Bacon,  wherein 
he  procured  the  abandonment  of  his  defence,  may,  we 
think,  be  seen  in  the  foregoing  letter.  See  also  his  hypo- 
critical methods  and  tears  npon  Somerset's  arrest,  and 
when  he  had  gone  he  said,  "  Now  the  J)eel  go  with  thee 
for  I  will  never  see  thy  face  any  more."  (Knight,  vol. 
iii.,  p.  300.) 

Knight  here  says  :  "  The  king  had  a  loathsome  way  of 
lolling  his  arms  about  his  favorites'  necks,  and  kissing 
them  ;  and  in  this  posture  the  messenger  found  the  king 
with  Somerset,  saying,  '  When  shall  I  see  thee  again  ?  '  "  ' 
It  was  Bacon's  custom  to  couch  his  feelings  in  words 
during  or  near  the  transit  of  events  ;  and  so  as  to  the  king's 
expressed  sorrow  at  the  beginning  of  his  troubles,  he  in 
Sonnet  35  says  : 

"  No  more  be  sijricv'd  at  that  which  thou  hast  done  : 

Roses  have  thorns,  and  silver  fountains  mud  ; 

Clouds  and  eclipses  stain  both  moon  and  sun, 

And  loathsome  canker  lives  in  sweetest  bud. 

All  men  make  faults,  and  even  I  in  this, 

AiUhorizing  thy  trespass  with  compare  ; 

Myself  corrupting,  salving  thy  amiss, 

Excusing  th)f  sins  more  than  thy  sins  are  : 

For  to  tliy  sensual  fault  I  bring  in  sense, 

(Thy  adverse  party  is  thy  advocate,) 

And  'gainst  myself  a  lawful  plea  commence. 

Such  civil  war  is  in  ni}'  love  and  hate. 

That  I  an  accessory  needs  must  be 

To  that  sweet  thief,  which  sourly  robs  from  me." 

And  so  in  the  play  of  The  Tempest,  Act  v.,  sc.  1,  p.  92, 
does  he,  as  Prospero,  say  : 

"  Yet,  with  my  nobler  reason,  'gainst  my  fury 
Do  I  take  part  :  The  rarer  action  is 
In  virtue  than  in  vengeance  :  they  being  penitent, 
The  sole  drift  of  my  purpose  doth  extend 
Not  a  frown  further."  - 

Yet  in  the  previous  sonnet,  Sonnet  34,  he  says  : 

'  See  please  in  this  connection  Sonnet  131.    Also  see  Sonnet  120. 

^  Promus,  63.  (He  is  the  best  asserter  [of  the  liberty]  of  his 
mind  who  bursts  the  chains  that  gall  his  breast,  and  at  the  same 
moment  ceases  to  grieve.)  In  his  Essay  on  Kevenge,  Bacon  says  : 
"  That  which  is  past  is  gone,  and  irrevocable  ;  and  wise  men  have 
enough  to  do  with  things  present  and  to  come  ;  therefore  they  do 
but  trille  with  themselves  that  labour  in  past  matters." 


LIFE    OF    BACOJST.  397 

"  Why  didst  thou  promise  such  a  beauteous  day, 
And  nuilie  me  travel  forth  without  my  cloak, 
To  let  base  clouds  o'ertake  me  in  my  way, 
Hiding  thy  bravery  in  their  rotten  smoke  ? 
'Tis  not  enough  that  through  the  cloud  thou  break, 
To  dry  the  rain  on  my  storm-beaten  face  ; 
For  no  man  well  of  such  a  salve  can  speak, 
That  heals  the  wound,  and  cures  not  the  disgrace  ; 
Nor  can  thy  shame  give  physic  to  my  grief  ; 
Though  thou  repent,  yet  I  have  still  the  loss  : 
Th'  otfender's  sorrow  lends  but  weak  relief 
To  him  that  bears  the  strong  offence's  cross. 
Ah  !  but  those  tears  are  pearl  which  thy  love  sheds. 
And  they  are  rich,  and  ransom  all  ill  deeds." 

As  to  the  word  "  cloak"  here  used,  we  in  the  A.  D.  B. 
Mask,  p.  6C)  (really  7G,  the  pagination  of  this  work  being 
like  the  Great  Folio),  have  :  "  But  peradventurc  thou 
wilt  object  and  Say,  a  Courtier  must  have  a  cloake  against 
every  winde  that  bloweth  :  Indeede  I  heare  it,  and  it  grives 
me  that  I  heare  it,  yet  I  can  hardly,  and  in  truth  very 
hardly,  denie  and  gainsay  it,  For  Courtierrs  had  neede  to 
apply  and  confirme  themselves,  to  all  occasions,  and  to 
the  conditions  of  them  with  whome  they  live  ;  to  bee  subtill 
and  craftie  both  in  their  Genius  and  disposition,  and  more 
mutable  and  variable  than  Proteus  himselfe." 

What  Bacon  thought  of  gifts  and  bribes  in  1619,  and 
so  before  his  fall,  may  be  seen  in  several  places  in  the 
mentioned  work.  On  p.  148  (omitting  its  mode  of  spell- 
ing) we  have  : 

"  Wherefore  let  the  Courtier  use  sometime  this  benefi- 
cence and  liberality,  especially  towards  those  whom  he 
knows  he  hath  offended  and  "whom  he  is  persuaded  his 
riches  and  possessions  may  very  much  resist  and  with- 
stand ;  questionless,  if  there  be  any  hammer  or  wedge 
wherewith  to  pierce,  penetrate,  or  cleave  in  sunder  the 
most  obdurate  and  stubborn  heart  of  man,  'tis  this,  namely. 
Gifts  or  Rewards.  Yet  here  again  it  is  not  idle,  but 
worth  the  questioning,  whether  the  Courtier  himself  may 
also  receive  gifts  again,  we  may  answer  with  Antoninus 
the  Emperour,  Neg  omnia,  neque  quouis  tempore,  neg  ah 
omnibus,  Neither  may  he  take  all  things,  _  nor  at  all 
times,  nor  from  all  men,  hut  each  of  these  discreetly  and 
ivisely  ;  For,  as  in  all  other  matters,  two  extremes  are  to 
be  avoided,  namely,  Excess  and  Defect,  even  so  it  is  here, 
for  the  extremity  of  defect,  is,  not  to  receive  aught  from 


208  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

any  man,  which  were  very  inhumane  and  uncivil  ;  and  tlic 
extremity  of  excess,  is,  always  to  receive  all  whatsoever  is 
proffered,  which  is  mast  vile  and  avaricious.' 

"  Those  Courtiers  arc  to  be  highly  commended,  who  re- 
ceive small  rewards,  and  that  very  sparingly  from  men  of 
mean  estate  or  condition,  especially  for  the  propagation 
and  necessary  execution  of  equity  and  Justice,  but  let 
them  rather  with  a  free  heart,  and  a  grateful  minci,  accept 
of  what  is,  for  that  cause,  conferred  upon  them  by  their 
Prince  himself  :  But  those  Courtiers  are  contrariwise  most 
worthy  detestation  and  bitter  execration,  which  do  sell 
Justice  and  Truth  for  gold  and  gain." 

And  on  })p.  135-37  we  have  : 

"  Moreover,  let  the  Courtier  attempt  all  his  enterprises 
and  employments  smoothly,  currently,  and  privately, 
without  any  the  least  rumour,  or  reports,  of  what  he  in- 
tends to  do,  let  him  1  say*  use  all  diligence,  hate  all  arro- 
gance, and  in  the  very  act  itself,  be  as  private  and  silent 
as  a  man  asleep.  The  reason  hereof  why  thus  he  shall 
perform  his  actions,  I  have  already  declared  which  here 
(with  the  reader's  patience)  I  shut  up  in  silence.^     I  only 

'  See  p.  281.  This  use  of  the  words  "excess"  and  "  defect"  is  strictly 
Baconian,  and  found  in  Bacon's  interpretation  of  the  fable  of  "  Scylla 
and  Icarus  ;  or,  The  Middle  Way."  lie  says:  "  The  parable  is  easy 
and  vulgar  :  for  the  way  of  virtue  lies  in  a  direct  path  between 
excess  and  defect.  Neitlier  is  it  a  wonder  that  Icarus  perished  by 
excess,  seeing  that  excess  for  the  most  part  is  the  peculiar  fault  of 
youth,  as  defect  is  of  age  ;  and  yet  of  two  evil  and  hurtful  ways, 
youth  commonly  makes  choice  of  the  better,  defect  being  always 
accounted  worst  ;  for  whereas  excess  contains  some  sparks  of  mag- 
nanimity, and,  like  a  bird,  claims  kindred  of  the  heavens,  defect 
only  like  a  base  worm  crawls  upon  the  earth." 

'  This  expression,  "  I  say,"  is  so  thrown  in  in  every  phase  of  these 
writings  as  to  make  it  a  distinguishing  mark. 

^  I  am  very  desirous  that  the  reader  shall  here  turn  to  his  Addi- 
son, vol.  ii.,  p.  96,  and  read  the  article  upon  the  subject  of  silence. 
Note  also  the  emphasis  placed  upon  the  subject  in  the  plays.  In 
Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  Act  ii.,  sc.  1,  p.  175,  we  have  : 

"  Claud.  Silence  is  the  perfectest  herald  of  joy  :  I  were  but  little 
happy,  if  I  could  say  how  much." 

In  Twelfth  Night,  Act  ii.,  sc.  5,  p.  393,  we  have  : 

"  Fab.  Thougli  our  silence  be  drawn  from  us  with  cords,  yet 
peace  !" 

And  in  Act  i.,  sc.  3,  p.  354,  we  have  : 

"  What  else  may  hap,  to  time  I  will  commit  ; 
Only  shape  thou  thy  silence  to  my  wit." 


LIFE   OF    BACON". 


299 


add  thus  much  and  it  is  indeed  a  shame  to  be  spoken  ; 
yet  such  is  the  property  and  ungodly  guise  of  most  Courts 
that  sifts  and  bribing  presents,  are  the  present  and  chiet- 
preparations  to  remove  all  the  rubs/  and  to  make  the  way 
plain  to  grace,  favour,  and  preferment.  But  the  truly 
noble  and  illustrious  Courtier  which  hath  learned  by  virtue 
(a  better  way  than  by  fawning  favour,  and  insinuated 
friendship)  to  rise  and  raise  himself  to  honour  and  dig- 
nity, were  better  to  want  both  phice  and  grace,  than  to 
acquire  or  desire  his  honour,  by  gifts  and  rewards  yet  tis 
true  which  Salust  that  most  grave  and  learned  Historian 
says,  especially  of  the  court  of  Rome.  Rome  omnia  esse 
venalia.  That  all  tMngs  are  set  to  sale  at  Rome,  bo  are 
they  for  the  most  part  at  many  other  Coiuts,  where  little 
or  nothing  is  given  without  Gold  or  Gain." 

Again  as  to  Kome,  and  toward  which  Buckingham  was 
now  stoutly  drifting,  we  have  :  "  Even  the  imposition  or 
laying  on  of  hands,  and  the  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost  are 
sold  for  money  ;  Yea  I  say  the  very  Pardon  and  forgive- 
ness of  sins  is  in  the  Court  of  Rome  made  only  a  money 
matter  •  They  wdiich  know  the  Court  of  Rome,  and  that 
monstrous  great  hireling  of  Rome  himself,  do  know  that 
I  tell  no  fabulous  fiction,  but  know  too  well  to  the  cost  ot 
many  of  them,  that  he  and  his  Courtiers  are  of  litifs 
Vespatian's  opinion,  Lucri  odorem  esse  honum  ex  re  quaii- 
bet :     TItat  the  sent  and  savour  of  gam  is  siveet  by  lohat 

'  This  distinctive  use  of  the  word  "rubs"  is  Baconian.     And  in 
The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  371,  we  have  :  "We  have  met  with  some 
notable  "rubs  ah-eady,  and  what  are  J^t  >^ehind  we  know  not  ;  bu 
for  the  most  part,  we  tind  it  true  that  has  been  talked  ot  old,  A  good 
man  must  suffer  trouble.  -.i  ,1  >. 

"  Cont   You  talk  of  rubs  ;  what  rubs  have  you  met  withal. 
And  in  Henry  VIII. ,  Act  ii.,  sc.  1,  p.  252,  we  have  : 

"  Heaven  has  an  end  in  all  :  Yet,  you  that  hear  me. 
This  from  a  dying  man  receive  as  certain  : 
Where  you  are  liberal  of  your  loves  and  counsels. 
Be  sure  you  be  not  loose  ;  for  those  you  make  friends, 
And  give  your  hearts  to,  when  they  once  perceive 
The  least  rub  in  your  fortunes,  fall  a\yay 
Like  water  from  ye,  never  found  again 
But  where  they  mean  to  sink  ye." 
In  King  Richard  II.,  Act  iii.,  sc.  4,  p.  97,  we  have  : 

"  Queen.   'Twill  make  me  think,  the  ^yo^ld  is  full  of  rubs, 
And  that  my  fortune  runs  against  the  bias." 


300  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

fneans  soever  it  he  gotten.  This  imposture,  deceivable 
juggler,  and  pesantly  Pedler,  doth  foster  and  favour  under 
him  such  cunning  cozeners'  and  sharking  shifters,  as 
scarcely  with  good  conscience  or  credit,  do  use  not  from 
urine-  or  stale,  but  even  from  Strumpets,  Jews,  Grecians, 
and  Barbarians  too,  scrape  together  and  even  wipe  tlieir 
noses  of  myriads  and  millions  of  gold  and  treasure.  I 
here  omit  the  epicurious  gluttons,  the  refiise  offal  and 
scum  of  all  men,  who  when  they  once,  like  ravening 
Harpies,  begin  to  hunger  and  gape  after  gain,  will  bring 
the  wealthiest  man  (though  never  so  honest)  within  the 
danger  of  their  devillish  Inquisition." 

Under  this  onslaught,  in  1G19,  had  the  Catholics  any 
interest  in  proving  back  upon  Bacon,  if  they  could, 
charges  of  corruption  ?  Did  they  unduly  urge  presents  upon 
him,  and  for  the  very  purpose  of  a  trap?'  What  were  tiie 
religious  convictions  of  those  making  charges  against  him  ? 
And  yet,  we  would  go  no  further  here,  than  to  draw  into 
Tiew  elements  which  we  regard  as  involved  in  Bacon's  fall. 

'  This  use  of  the  word  "  cozen"  will  be  found  in  each  division  of 
these  writings,  and  quite  often  in  the  plays  and  in  the  Anatomy  of 
Melancholy.  And  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  175,  we  have  :  "  This 
schoolmaster  taught  them  the  art  of  getting,  either  by  violence, 
cozenage,  flattering,  lying,  or  by  putting  on  a  guise  of  religion  ;  and 
these  four  gentlemen  had  attained  much  of  the  art  of  their  master, 
so  that  they  could  each  of  them  have  kept  such  a  school  them- 
selves." Bacon  says  :  "  Neither  if  Rome  will  cozen  itself,  by  con- 
ceiving it  may  be  some  degree  to  the  like  toleration  in  England,  do 
I  hold  it  a  matter  of  any  moment,  but  rather  a  good  mean  to  take 
off  the  tierceness  and  eagerness  of  the  humour  of  Rome,  and  to  stay 
further  excommunications  or  interdictions  for  Ireland."  (Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  iii  ,  p.  49,  and  see  vol  i.,  p.  129.) 

'^  Bacon,  as  to  this  use  of  the  word  "  urine,"  says  :  "  Vespasian 
set  a  tribute  upon  urine.  Titus  his  son  emboldened  himself  to  speak 
to  his  father  of  it :  and  represented  it  as  a  thing  indigu  and  sordid. 
Vespasian  said  nothing  for  the  time  ;  but  a  while  after,  when  it  Avas 
forgotten,  sent  for  a  piece  of  silver  out  of  the  tribute  money,  and 
called  to  his  son,  bidding  him  smell  to  it  ;  and  asked  him  :  Whether 
he  found  any  offence?  Who  said.  No.  Why  lo  (said  Vespasian 
again),  and  yet  this  comes  out  of  urine.'  (Bacon's  Literary  Works, 
vol.  ii.,  p.  149.) 

^  At  this  time,  as  we  have  seen,  Spain  and  the  Catholics  were 
seeking  anew  the  ascendancy  in  Christendom.  The  mentioned  work 
was  dedicated  to  Buckingham,  who  had  just  wedded  a  lady  of 
Catholic  views,  and  he  himself  was  seeking  the  closest  alliance  with 
Spain  and  her  Catholic  interests.  We  are  giving  the  facts,  and  from 
which  the  reader  may  form  his  own  conclusions.  Note  here  also 
the  words  "  sharking"  and  "  harpies,"  used  in  the  plays. 


LIFE   OF    BACON".  301 

He  had  in  his  opening  speech  as  Chancellor,  concerning 
the  Catholics,  said  :  "  Now  to  some  particulars  and  not 
many  :  of  all  other  things  I  must  begin  as  the  king  be- 
gins ;  that  is,  with  the  cause  of  religion,  and  especially 
the  hollow  church  Papists.  St.  Augustine  hath  a  good 
comparison  of  such  men,  affirming,  that  they  are  like  the 
roots  of  nettles,  which  themselves  sting  not,  but  yet  they 
bear  all  the  stinging  leaves  :'  let  me  know  of  such  roots, 
and  I  will  root  them  out  of  the  country."  (Works,  vol. 
ii.,  p.  47G.)  In  an  important  paper  prepared  by  Bacon, 
concerning  Great  Britain  and  Spain  during  this  year,  he 
as  to  Spain,  among  other  things,  says  : 

"  The  policy  of  Spain  hath  trodden  more  bloody  steps 
than  any  state  of  Christendom.  Look  into  the  treatise 
and  the  negotiations  of  his  ministers  abroad.  You  shall 
find  as  much  falsehood  in  these  as  blood  in  the  other.  He 
never  paid  debt  so  truly  as  to  those  he  employed  in  cor- 
rupl-ing  of  the  ministers  of  other  princes.  He  holds  league 
with  none  but  to  have  the  nearer  access  to  do  harm  by  ; 
and  a  match  in  kindred  shall  not  hinder  it  when  he  in- 
tends his  advantage  once.  He  disturbs  all  Christendom 
with  his  yearly  alarms  and  armadas,  and  yet  doth  less 
hurt  to  Infidels  and  Pirates  tlian  any  ;  nnless  it  be  to  get 
wherewithal  to  arm  iiimself  against  other  Christian  princes. 
And  he  hath  an  ambition  to  the  whole  empire  of  Chris- 
tendom, These  are  motives'  wherein  all  Christian  princes 
are  interested,  so  as  with  reason  they  cannot  oppose  the 
design  :  nor  will,  I  think,  the  most  of  them  :  he  hath 
derived  himself  into  such  an  hatred  with  them. 

"  Let  us  now  betwixt  his  Majesty  and  the  United  Prov- 
inces  consider  how  the  particular  causes  of  both  nations 
do  importune  ns  both  to  the  undertaking  thereof.  \Yho 
hath  been  so  thirsty  of  our  blood  as  Spain  ?  and  who  hath 
spilled  so  much  of  it  as  he?  and  who  hath  been  solong 
our  enemy?  and  who  hath  corrupted  so  many  of  our 
nation  as  Spain  ?  and  that  with  help  of  the  gold  which 

>  In  King  Richard  II.,  Act  iii..  sc.  2,  p.  bl,  we  have  the  expres- 
sion "  Yield  stinging  nettles  to  mine  enemies,"  and  in  The  Tempest, 
Act  ii.,  sc.  1,  p.  48,  we  have  : 

"  Go/i.  Had  I  plantation  of  this  isle,  my  lord.— 
A)it.  He'd  sow't  with  nettle-seed." 
''To  this  Baconian  use  of  tlie  word  "  motives"   we  shall  have 
occasion  to  allude  in  works  yet  to  be  reviewed. 


303  LIFE    OF   BACO]Sr. 

by  reason  of  the  neglect  of  this  design  he  doth  still  enjoy, 
to  attempt  our  weak  ones  and  our  false  ones  withal. 
Would  you  find  a  traitor  of  a  sudden  ?  Balaam's  ass  will 
tell  you  where  ;  at  the  Spanish  ambassador's  door.  And 
when  ?  When  they  come  from  mass.  And  otherwise 
when  too  ?  Even  when  they  treated  the  match  with  us. 
For  his  malice  is  so  great,  he  cannot  hide  it  :  nor  will 
God  I  hope  suffer  it.'"  See  this  paper,  Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  vii,,  pp.  22-29.     And  see  this  work,  p.   222. 

The  Spanish  ambassador  here  alluded  to  was  doubtless 
Gondomar.  Spain  was  now  striving  anew,  as  we  shall 
see,  to  return  England  to  the  old  faith,  and  Bacon  stood 
athwart  the  ripening  of  events.  Again,  his  deep  methods 
for  reform,  his  Novum  Organum  had  for  months  before 
his  fall  been  beneath  Home's  scrutinizing  eye.  From  the 
Britannica  article  on  Buckingham,  p.  418,  we  quote  as 
follows  :  "  In  the  winter  of  1G21  and  the  succeeding  year, 
Buckingham  was  entirely  in  Gondomar' s  hands,  and  it 
was  only  with  some  difficulty  that  in  May  1G22  Laud 
argued  him  out  of  a  resolution  to  declare  himself  a  Eoman 
Catholic." 

Whate\"er  may  have  been  the  pretensions  to  Bacon  by 
either  king  or  Buckingham,  they  never  did  aught  to  save 
or  to  in  any  way  break  his  fall  ;  but  by  systematic  manoeu- 
vring thereafter  took  his  fleece,  his  York  House,  his  wealth, 
and  who,  according  to  Mr.  Spedding's  presentation, 
instead  of  being  miserly,  was  the  most  liberal  of  men. 

After  the  flush  of  his  sorrow  had  passed,  he  with  re- 
newed energy  sought  to  make  himself  of  service  to  the 
king,  and  through  the  king  to  posterity.  Being  by  the 
Parliamentary  sentence  excluded  from  the  verge  of  the 
court  and  hence  from  London,  he  on  June  23d  retired 
to  his  residence  at  Gorhambury,  in  Hertfordshire,  where 
soon  was  completed  his  History  of  Henry  the  Seventh, 
He  now  proposed  to  the  king  as  "  active  work"  the  re- 
compiling of  law^g,  the  regulation  of  the  jurisdiction  of 
courts,  the  regulation  of  trade,'  the  disposing  of  wauls, 
and  the  education  of  youth  generally.     For  "  contempla- 

'  The  chief  harshness  in  Bacon's  writings  will  be  found  to  be  upon 
lliis  subject.  Promiis,  937.  (I  lost  my  honour  in  talking  ill  and  in 
ill  listening.) 

^  This  and  other  of  these  subjects  will  be  found  treated  in  the  Defoe 
literature.     See  Addison's  Vision  on  Public  Credit,  vol.  ii.,  p.  237. 


LIFE  OF  r.A.coisr.  303 

tive  work"  he  proposed  a  continuance  of  the  History  of 
England  from  his  now  completed  History  of  Henry  the 
Seventh,  a  general  treatise  de  Legibus  et  Justitia,  and  a 
treatise  on  the  Holy  War  against  the  Ottomans  or  Turks. 
And  so  in  various  ways  did  he  offer  his  services  to  the 
king.  But  the  king  did  not  care  for  his  work,  and  so  his 
literary  methods  were  left  to  be  chosen  in  his  own  way. 
Daring  this  year  appeared  the  enlarged  Anatomy  of  Melan- 
choly in  two  volumes,  and  which  we  unhesitatingly  pro- 
nounce a  product  of  his  pen.  It  embraces  much  of  the 
note-book,  and  as  such  contains  scaffolding  or  building 
materials  for  other  work.  His  "  Holy  War"  is  but  a  frag- 
ment, having  been  broken  off  in  the  form  in  which  it  was 
begun,  as  Ave  shall  claim,  for  the  Bunyan  work.'  So  also 
his  History  of  Henry  the  Eighth  was  broken  off,  and  in 
its  stead  we  have  the  Shakespeare  drama  by  that  name, 
and  which  first  appeared  in  the  G-reat  Folio  of  1623.  In 
the  postscript  of  a  letter  by  Bacon  to  the  king,  September 
5th,  1621  (see  end  of  sc.  2,  Act  iii.,  Henry  VIII.),  he  says  : 

"  Cardinal  Wolsey  said  that  if  he  had  pleased  Grod  as  he 
had  pleased  the  king,  he  had  not  been  ruined.  My  con- 
science saith  no  such  thing  ;  for  I  know  not  but  in  serving 
you,  I  have  served  God  in  one.  But  it  may  be,  if  I  had 
pleased  God,  as  I  had  pleased  you,  it  would  have  been 
better  with  me."     (AVorks,  vol.  iii.,  p.  136.) 

He  in  this  letter  says  :  "  For  in  that  other  poor  prop 
of  my  estate,  which  is  the  farming  of  the  petty  writs, 
I  improved  your  majesty's  revenue  by  four  hundred 
pounds  the  year.  And  likewise,  when  I  received  the  seal, 
I  left  both  the  attorney's  place,  which  was  a  gainful 
place,  and  the  clerkship  of  the  Star  Chamber,  which  was 
Queen  Elizabeth's  favour,  and  was  worth  twelve  hundred 
pounds  by  the  year,  which  would  have  been  a  good  com- 
mendani.  The  honours  which  your  majesty  hath  done  me 
have  put  me  above  the  means  to  get  my  living  ;  and  the 
misery  I  am  fallen  into  hath  put  me  below  the  means  to 
subsist  as  I  am.  I  hope  ray  courses  shall  be  such,  for  this 
little  end  of  my  thread^  which  remaineth,  as  your  majesty 

'  See  this  trail  laid  in  the  Serious  Reflections  of  Crusoe,  and  where 
is  painted  forth  many  of  Bacon's  life  aims,  and  along  and  upon  which 
line,  other  works  were  designed  to  tie. 

■^  Note  this  use  of  the  word  "  thread,"  as  we  shall  later  find  it 
woven  into  the  play  of  The  Tempest. 


oU4:  Lll'E   OF   BACON. 

in  doing  me  good  may  do  good  to  many,  both  that  live 
now,  and  shall  be  born  hereafter." 

This  was  in  September.  In  October  he  prepared  a 
petition  to  Parliament  asking  relief  from  his  sentence. 
This  he  entrnsted  to  Buckingham  for  presentation.  All 
things  that  were  expected  to  succeed  had  to  go  through 
this  channel.  After  some  little  manoeuvring  he  gave 
Bacon  to  understand  that  York  House  must  first  be  his. 
Bacon  now  sought  an  interview,  and  prepared  the  })aper 
which  we  have  already  quoted  at  p.  283,  and  which  Mr. 
Spedding  says  must  have  been  between  October  20th  and 
December  IGth.  Buckingham  did  not  come,  and  so  he 
wrote  to  him  as  follows  : 

"  My  Lord  :  I  say  to  myself  that  your  Lordship  hath 
forsaken  me  ;  and  I  think  I* am  one  of  the  last,  that  find- 
eth  it,  and  in  nothing  more,  than  that,  twice  in  London, 
your  Lordship  wouhl  not  vouchsafe  to  see  me,  tliough  the 
latter  time  1  begged  it  of  you.  If  your  lordship  take  any 
insatisfaction  about  York  House,  good  my  lord,  think  of 
it  better  ;  for  I  assure  your  Lordsliip,  that  motion  to  me 
was  to  me  as  a  second  sentence  ;  for  I  conceive  it  sen- 
tenced me  to  the  loss  of  that  which  I  thonght  was  saved 
from  the  former  sentence,  which  is  your  love  and  favour. 
But  sure  it  would  not  be  that  pelting  matter,  but  the 
being  out  of  sight,  out  of  use,  and  the  ill  offices  done  me, 
jierhaps,  by  such  as  have  your  ear.  Thus  I  think,  and 
thus  I  speak  for  I  am  far  enough  from  any  baseness  or  de- 
tracting, but  shall  ever  love  and  honour  you,  however  ifc 
be.  Your  forsaken  friend  and  freed  servant.'"  (Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  314.) 

To  the  Earl  of  Lenox,  who  now  tried  to  secure  York 
House,  he  wrote  : 

"  My  a'Eky  good  Lord  :  I  am  sorry  to  deny  yonr  grace 
any  thing  ;  but  in  this  you  will  pardon  me.  York  House 
is  the  house  wherein  my  father  died,  and  wherein  I  first 
breathed  :  and  there  will  I  yield  my  last  breath,  if  so 
please  God,  and  the  king  will  give  me  leave  ;  though  I  be 
now  by  fortune  (as  the  old  proverb  is)   like  a  bear  in  a 

'  From  this  moment,  we  tliink,  Bacon's  interest  in  Buckingham 
ceased,  and  tliat  later  lie  endeavored  to  bring  the  "  pinches"— to  use 
a  Baconian  word — upon  him.  Was  he  thereafter  jiistilicd  in  using 
tlie  soft  side  of  speecli  in  endeavoring  to  save  the  sequestration  of 
his  estate,  is  a  point  involved  as  to  later  letters. 


LIFE    OF   BACON. 


305 


monk's  hood.  At  least  no  money,  no  value,  shall  make 
me  part  with  it.  Besides  as  I  never  denied  it  to  my  lord 
Marquis,  so  yet  the  difhculty  I  made  was  so  like  a  denial, 
as  I  owe  unto  my  great  love  and  respect  to  his  lordship  a 
denial  to  all  my  other  friends  ;  among  whom,  m  a  very 
near  place  next  his  lordship,  I  ever  accounted  ot  your 
grace.  So  not  doubting  that  you  will  continue  me  in 
your  former  love  and  good  affection  I  rest, "  etc.     (Works, 

vol.  iii.,  p.  140.)  1.1 

The  king  himself,  had  he  felt  so  disposed,  might  have 
pardoned  him  and  saved  this  application  to  Parliament. 
Bacon,  in  fact,  did  first  apply  to  him,  but  Bucking- 
ham, through  Williams,  now  made  Chancellor,  procured 
the  pardon  to  be  stopped  at  the  seal.  Buckingham  s 
mother,  and  in  whom  Williams  was  interested,  hac  also 
some  hand  in  this  matter,  as  we  shall  see.  backville 
recommends  that  Bacon's  letters  be  now  made  all  o± 
sweetmeats."  '  Through  manrouvring,  however,  Bucking- 
ham finally  got  Bacon's  estate  into  the  hands  of  Granfaeld, 
now  made  Treasurer,  and  this  done  by  means  of  a  reterencc 
from  the  king,  and  he  Avas  thereafter  required  to  deed  to 
him  York  House.  Later,  in  certain  Defoe  papers,  we 
may  learn  something  further  concerning  this. 

The  neglect,  indifference,  postponement,  and  trilling 
as  to  his  now  sought  pardon  may  be  seen  m  the  corre- 
spondence. It  may  likewise  be  seen  m  Sonnets  57  and 
58,  where  he  as  to  the  king  says  : 

"  Being  your  slave,  what  shovild  I  do  but  tend 
Upon  the  hours  and  times  of  your  desire  ? 
I  have  no  precious  time  ut  all  to  spend, 
Nor  services  to  do,  till  you  require.'^ 
Nor  dare  I  chide  the  world- without-end  hour, 
Whilst  I,  my  sovereign,  watch  the  clock'  for  you  ; 
Nor  think  the  bitterness  of  absence  sour,^ 

>  See  Works,  vol.  iii.,  pp.  141  and  144. 

*  His  tendered  services  to  the  king  we  have  already  considered. 
We  have  likewise  seen  that  Bacon  considered  contemplation  a  real 

^^\  a  letter  to  Buckingham  in  1619,  Bacon  says  :  "  For  the  Star- 
Chamber  business,  I  shall  (as  you  write)  keep  the  clock  on  going 
which  is  hard  to  do  when  sometimes  the  wheels  are  too  many  and 
sometimes  too  few."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vu.,  p  74) 

■*  In  his  Essay  on  "  Judicature,"  Bacon  says  :  There  be  (saith 
the  Scriptures)   that   turn  judgment  into  wormwood;     and  surely 


306  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

AVhoii  you  have  bid  your  servant  once  adieu  : 
Nor  dare  I  question  vs'itli  my  jealous  thought 
"Where  you  may  be,  or  your  affairs  suppose  ; 
But  b'ke  a  sad  slave,  stay  and  think  of  nouglit, 
Save,  where  you  are,  how  happy  you  make  those. 
So  true  a  fool  is  love,  that  in  your  will, 
Though  you  do  any  thing,  he  thinks  no  ill." 

"  That  God  forbid,  that  made  me  tirst  your  slave, 
I  should  in  thought  control  j^our  times  of  pleasure 
Or  at  your  hand  th'  account  of  hours  to  crave. 
Being  your  vassal,  bound  to  stay  your  leisure  ! 

0  !  let  me  suffer,  being  at  your  beck, 
Th'  imprison'd  absence  of  your  liberty  ; 

And  patience,  tame  to  sufferance,  bide  each  check, 

Without  accusing  you  of  injury. 

Be  where  you  list,  j'our  charter  is  so  strong. 

That  you  yourself  may  privilege  your  time 

To  what  you  will  ;  to  j'ou  it  doth  belong 

Yourself  to  pardon  of  self-doing  crime.- 

1  am  to  wait,  though  waiting  so  be  hell, 
Not  blame  your  pleasure,  be  it  ill  or  well." 

And  was  William  Shakespeare  watching  tlie  clock — the 
financial  clock — for  his  sovereign  ?  and  so  his  slave  that 
he  had  no  precious  time  to  spend  nor  services  to  do  till 
he  required  ?  And  what  self-doing  crime  had  his  sover- 
eign put  upon  him  ?     See  also  Sonnet  120. 

And  thus  under  the  shield  of  Venus,  as  we  shall  see,  or  in 
the  form  of  a  lover,  did  Bacon  apply  himself  for  aid  to  the 
fountain  function— the  kingly  office.  Touching  this,  we 
in  the  A.  D.  B.  Mask,  p.  9,  have  :  "  But  I  stray  too  far, 
time  calls  upon  me,  now  to  set  upon  the  Subject  itself, 
before  I  proceed  to  any  other  matters.  First  then  let  the 
Courtier  or  whosoever  else,  which  hath  determined  with 
himself,  to  bestow  and  dedicate  his  endeavours  to  the  ser- 
vice of  Princes,  often  deliberate,  and  think  upon  this  one 
thing,  that  the  Court  in  some  sort,  doth  represent  and 
resemble,  love,  or  a  warfare,   and  lovers  we  know,   will 

there  be  also  that  turn  it   into  vinegar  ;    for  injustice  maketh   it 
bittei",  and  delays  make  it  sour." 

'  We  understand  him  here  to  say  that  the  king,  having  procured 
him  to  abandon  a  good  defence,  that  the  crime  rests  there,  and  hence 
that  he  and  not  the  Parliament  should  pardon  it.  See  this  point, 
as  well  as  to  loss  of  time,  touched  upon  in  his  notes  for  an  interview 
with  Buckingham  at  p.  284.  Promus,  1152.  (/  was  dumb,  and 
opened  not  my  mouth  because  tJiou  didst  it.)  Pronms,  1043.  (How- 
ever, I  postponed  m}'  serious  business  to  their  play.) 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  307 

diligently  remove  every  rub,  obstacle,  or  impediment, 
whereby  they  may  content  and  i)lease  their  beloved  :  Sol- 
diers also  do  labour,  and  endeavour,  with  all  care  and  dili- 
gence, and  make  this  the  mark,  whereat  they  wholly  level 
and  aim,  namely  to  follow  their  Captain  or  leader  ;  and 
as  much  as  in  them  lies,  to  do  what  he  commandeth  :  so 
should  an  honest  Courtier,  adorned  and  endued,  with  wit 
and  discretion,  bend  and  incline,  all  his  study  and  indus- 
trious endeavours,  not  only  with  dilig'ence,  to  entertain 
his  King's,  and  Prince's  commission  and  command  ;  but 
jjromptly,  speedily,  and  with  all  care  and  fidelity,  to  dis- 
charge the  charge,  which  is  committed  unto  him  :  And 
he  which  lays  this  foundation  of  a  Courtier's  life,  shall 
doubtless  be  graciously  acceptable,  in  the  sight  of  his 
Sovereign." 

In  this  work  the  court  is  ever  likened  to  the  sea.  Was 
this  the  allegoric  sea  upon  which  Crusoe  was  warned  not 
to  enter  ? 

For  reasons  of  state  or  otherwise,  it  is  said  that  silence 
was  imposed  upon  Bacon  and  upon  his  friends  after  he 
was  in  his  grave.  Archbishop  Tennison  says:  "The 
great  cause  of  his  sufferings  is  to  some  a  secret.  I  leave 
them  to  find  it  out  by  his  own  words  to  King  James  : 
'  I  wish  that  as  I  am  the  first,  so  I  may  be  the  last  of  sacri- 
fices in  your  times  :  and  when,  from  private  appetite,  it  is 
resolved  that  a  creature  shall  be  sacrificed,  it  is  easy  to 
pick  up  sticks  enough  from  any  thicket  whither  it  hath 
strayed  to  make  a  fire  to  offer  it  with.'  "  (Works,  vol.  i., 
p.  99.) 

His  chaplain.  Dr.  Rawley,  says  :  "  Some  papers  touching 
matters  of  estate,  tread  too  near  to  the  heels  of  truth  and 
to  the  times'  of  the  persons  concerned."  We  think 
we  shall  later  learn  something  touching  those  papers. 

When  the  sonnets  were  put  forth,  none  of  which  ap- 
peared in  the  Great  First  Folio,  they  were  so  transposed 
and  mixed,  and  evidently  by  design,  as  to  cloak  their  true 
relations.  Here  we  anticipate  a  ([uestion,  Did  the  first 
edition  contain  them  all?  as  those  applying  to  King 
James  could  not  have  been  produced  earlier  than  1G21, 
and  the  first  edition  of  them  is  said  to  have  been  issued  in 
1609.  If,  then,  the  first  edition  contained  them  all — 
which  it  probably  did  not — was  the  method  as  to  mixing 
them,  in  order  to  destroy  relations,  extended  likewise  to 


308  LIFE   OF   BACON". 

the  date,  by  antedating  the  edition,  so  as  bnt  still  more 
effectually  to  cloak  their  relations?  The  sonnets,  how- 
ever, as  we  now  have  them,  did  not  probably  appear  until 
the  second  edition,  put  forth  in  1640. 

The  sonnets,  then,  point  chiefly  :  1.  To  new  and  unfold- 
ing methods  in  philosophy  ;  2.  To  the  fact  that  they  were 
the  product  of  some  covert  pen  ;  3.  To  a  desire  through 
Elizabeth  for  a  Protestant  heir  to  the  throne  of  England  ; 
and  4.  To  the  downing  of  their  author — the  then  chief 
pillar  of  Protestantism  in  Europe. 

The  galsomeness  of  Bnckingham  sent  York  House  to 
the  hands  of  the  now  Treasurer,  Cranfield  ;  and  his  liberty 
to  come  within  the  verge  of  the  court  he  was  able  to  secure 
only  through  the  Spanish  minister,  and  so  we  need  not 
therefore  wonder  that  in  the  play  of  The  Tempest 
James  is  represented  in  a  couplet  as  the  king  of  both 
countries.  After  the  dissolution  of  James'  last  Parlia- 
ment Mr.  Spedding  says  :  "  Gondomar  thought  that  there 
was  an  end  of  Parliaments  in  England,  that  the  king 
would  be  inevitably  thrown  into  the  arms  of  Spain,  and 
that  though  the  people  would  be  much  enraged,  they 
would  not  be  able  to  help  themselves.  Digby  regarded  it 
as  settling  the  question  as  to  the  expediency  of  the  match. 
The  Palatinate  could  not  be  rescued  except  by  the  co- 
operation of  Spain  ;  and  in  order  to  secure  that  co-opera- 
tion the  marriage  must  be  concluded.  The  Spaniards, 
ready  to  do  whatever  was  necessary  to  keep  James  on  their 
side  and  detach  him  from  the  Protestant  cause  in  the 
European  quarrel,  professed  the  strongest  wish  for  the 
alliance,  promised  everything  that  was  likely  to  encourage, 
him  to  proceed  with  it,  and  made  Digby  believe  that  they 
intended  performance.  It  was  only  by  the  absolute  au- 
thority of  the  two  kings,  he  said,  that  the  business  could 
be  brought  to  any  good  conclusion  ;  the  Spanish  council  of 
State  had  decided,  after  a  full  discussion  of  the  question 
of  the  Palatinate,  that  complete  satisfaction  should  be 
given  to  the  King  of  England  :  and  he  '  made  no  doubt 
but  that  the  Prince  should  entirely  be  restored  both  to  his 
territories  and  his  electorate  :  and  the  King  of  Spain, 
merely  to  gratify  his  Majesty,  would  make  it  his  work.'  " 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  309.) 

Mr.  Spedding  also  says  :  "  When  Gondomar  proposed 
to  Bacon  (a  few  weeks  after  the  Lords  had  passed  judg- 


LIFE   OF   BACON.  309 

menfc  upon  him  at  the  demand  of  the  Commons),  to  en- 
gage the  King  of  Spain  to  become  an  intercessor  for  him 
with  the  King  of  England,  the  proposal  was  so  unfit  and 
unreasonable  that  he  could  only  thank  him  and  put  it  by. 
But  when  upon  their  confidence  in  Gondomar's  advice  and 
invitation  the  Prince  and  Buckingham  had  taken  so  bold 
and  hazardous  a  step,  it  could  not  be  doubted  that  he  had 
influence  with  them,  and  Bacon  (presuming  that  he  would 
be  disposed  to  use  it  in  his  favour  as  he  had  been  before) 
wrote  to  remind  him  of  his  condition  and  explain  how 
matters  now  stood."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  410.) 

But  between  Gonclomar  and  Buckingham  a  breach 
arose,  as  will  appear  by  Bacon's  letter  to  Matthew  into 
Spain,  while  Buckingham  and  the  Prince  were  there  in 
the  matter  of  the  marriage  alliance.  The  letter  is  as 
follows  : 

"Good  Mr.  Matthew:  I  have  received  your  letter, 
sent  by  my  Lord  of  Andover  ;  and,  as  I  acknowledged  your 
care,  so  t  cannot  fit  it  with  any  thing,  that  I  can  think 
on  for  myself  ;  for,  since  Gondomar,  who  was  my  volun- 
tary friend,  is  in  no  credit,  neither  with  the  Prince,  nor 
with  the  Duke,  I  do  not  see  what  may  be  done  for  me 
there  ;  except  that  which  Gondomar  hath  lost  you  have 
found  ;  and  then  I  am  sure  my  case  is  amended  :  so  as, 
with  a  great  deal  of  confidence,  T  commend  myself  to  you, 
hoping,  that  you  will  do  what  in  you  lieth,  to  prepare 
the  Prince  and  Duke  to  think  of  me,  upon  their  return. 
And  if  you  have  any  relation  to  the  Infanta,  I  doubt  not 
but  it  shall  be  also  to  my  use.  God  keep  you,"  etc. 
(Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  151.) 

Gondomar  befriended  I5acon  when  all  other  avenues  had 
been  closed  to  him,  and  lie  is  represented  as  Gonzalo  in 
the  play  of  The  Tempest,'  and  where  this  breach  with 
Buckingham  clearly  appears. 

Upon  his  fall,  Bacon,  as  already  remarked,  applied  him- 
self industriously  to  the  Prince,  in  whom  from  that  mo- 
ment he  began  to  centre  his  hopes  for  the  future  of  his 
philosophy,  and  who  in  1622  had  grown  indifferent  to 
the  Spanish  alliance,  and  was  pursuing  courses  that  were 
pleasing  to  Bacon.  From  the  Britannica  article  on 
Charles  the  First  we  quote  :  "  By  the  death  of  his  brother 

'  See  Bacon's  letter  to  Matthew  concerning  Gondomar,  February 
28th,  1621.     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  835.)  ^ 


310  LIFE   OF   BACON. 

Henry,  he  became  Prince  of  Wales  in  1612,  but  the  first 
public  matter  of  importance  in  which  he  was  concerned 
was  the  Spanish  marriage.  At  first  he  was  quite  indiffer- 
ent to  the  affair,  and  in  1622  he  was  full  of  a  dream  that 
he  would  lead  an  army  into  the  Palatinate,  and  set  his 
dear  sister  upon  her  throne.  But,  by  the  beginning  of 
the  next  year,  Buckingham  had  filled  him  with  the  roman- 
tic notion  of  setting  off,  in  defiance  of  all  policy,  on  a 
private  visit  to  Spain." 

At  this  time  Bacon  was  urging  the  union  of  all  Chris- 
tian princes  to  a  war  against  the  Ottomans,  the  Turks. 
In  1622  was  written  his  fragment  on  the  "  Holy  War," 
and  where  the  six  disputants  or  characters  may  not  inaptly 
be  compared  to  the  six  subtle  nymphs  or  spirits  in  the 
play  of  The  Tempest.'  Note  likewise  the  six  char- 
acters in  his  brilliant  court  mask  in  1594,  already  alluded 
to  ;  and  by  Avhicli  he  was  trying  to  educate  the  queen, 
their  subjects  being  philosophy,  buildings  and  founda- 
tions, state  and  treasure,  virtue  and  a  gracious  govern- 
ment, pastimes  and  sports  ;  and  note  the  treatment  of 
these  subjects  in  the  Defoe  literature.  Observe  in  his 
article  on  the  "  Holy  War"  the  consummate  skill  employed 
in  handling  a  subject  dialogue-wise,  and  yet  this  is  the 
only  piece  of  like  composition  with  which  Lord  Bacon's 
name  is  associated.  So  is  the  New  Atlantis,  his  only  nar- 
rational  piece.  Neither  of  these  was  published  until 
after  his  death. 

Buckingham  and  the  Prince  having  failed  to  bring 
about  the  marriage  alliance  with  Spain  returned  in  anger. 
Shifting  now  from  their  previous  courses,  they  at  once 
resolved  upon  a  war  with  Spain.  In  this  they  struck  the 
popular  wave,  and  for  the  moment  Buckingham  was  the 
most  popular  man  in  England.     The  king,  though  reluc- 

^  Of  these  Ariel,  or  the  cogitative  faculty,  stands  chief,  the  senses 
yielding  to  it  their  reports.  And  so,  falling  within  the  gigantic 
drama  of  the  Defoe  period,  may  be  found  these  six  cliaracters,  live 
of  whom  remit  to  Biclieustaff  (a  mere  nom  de  plume)  their  messages. 
Please  see  Addison,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  228-37,  and  pp.  1-18.  And  in  vol. 
iv.,  p.  67,  we  have  :  "These  rigid  critics  are  so  afraid  of  allowing 
me  anything  which  does  not  belong  to  me,  that  they  will  not  be  pos- 
itive whether  the  lion,  the  wild  boar,  and  the  tlower-pots  in  the  play- 
house, did  not  actually  write  those  letters  which  come  to  me  in  their 
name."  He,  Addison,  is  said  to  have  been  a  very  shy  man,  and 
one  hard  to  draw  into  discourse. 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  311 

tantly,  was  compelled  to  fall  in  with  the  changes  which 
these  circumstances  brought,  and  which  placed  Buck- 
ingham beyond  his  control,  and  whom  he  ever  after 
feared,  as  Buckingham  held  the  firm  confidence  of  the 
Prince,  the  prospective  heir  to  the  throne,  and  as  the 
history  of  the  times  will  fully  show.  As  to  Bucking- 
ham's power  over,  and  his  violent  courses  toward,  the 
king,  even  before  he  and  the  Prince  went  into  Spain, 
and  which  was  against  the  king's  wishes,  see  Hume,  vol. 
iv.,  pp.  GG-69. 

Concerning  a  plot  against  the  life  of  the  king  and  other 
points  in  the  play  of  The  Tempest,  we  from  Weldon's 
Court  and  Character  of  King  James  quote  matter  between 
pp.  44  and  47,  as  follows  : 

"  The  Spanish  Match,  having  been  long  in  Treaty,  and 
it  being  suspected  now,  that  the  Sjjaniard  did  juggle  with 
this  State  in  this,  as  they  formerly  did  in  a  Match  with 
that  brave  Prince  Henry,  and  in  truth,  in  all  other  things 
wherein  any  negotiation  had  been,  only  feeding  the  King 
with  fair  hopes,  and  fair  words,  yet  foul  deeds.  Whether 
the  King  suspected  any  such  matter,  or  any  whimsey 
came  in  the  brain  of  this  great  Favorite  and  Prince,  to 
imitate  the  old  story  of  the  Knights  Errand,  but  agreed 
it  was  (it  should  seem)  between  the  Favorite  and  the 
Prince  only  (no  one  other  so  much  as  dreaming  of  any 
such  adventure)  except  Cottington,  who  also  accompanied 
them,  that  the  Prince  must  go  himself  into  Spain :  away 
they  went  under  the  borrowed  names  of  Jaclc  and  Tovi 
Smith  to  the  amazement  of  all  wise  men,  only  accompanied 
with  Cottington,  and  some  one  or  two  more  at  most,  taking 
their  way  by  France;  had  the  Ports  laid  so,  that  none 
should  follow  them,  or  give  any  notice  to  the  French 
Court,  till  they  might  get  the  start,  etc.,  yet  their  wisdoms 
made  them  adventure  to  stay  in  the  French  Court, 
and  look  on  that  Lady  Avhom  he  after  married  ;  and 
there  did  this  Mars  imitate  one  of  Prince  Arthur's 
Knights,  in  seeking  Adventures  through  foreign  Princes' 
territories  ;  1st  beheld  this  French  beauty  Mars  vidit 
visamq  ;  cupit  jjotiturq ;  cupiia :  as  in  our  discourse  will 
afterwards  appear;  from  thence  away  to  Spain;  but  as 
the  Journey  was  only  plotted  by  young  heads,  so  it  was  so 
childishly  carried,  that  they  escaped  the  Fretich  King's 
Curriers  very  narrowly,  but  escape  they  did,  and  arrived 


312  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

safely  in  Spain  their  wished  Port,  before  eitlier  welcome, 
or  expected,  by  our  Embassadors,  or  that  State. 

"  Yet  now  must  the  best  face  be  jiut  on,  at  all  hands, 
that  put  their  Grandees  to  new  shifts,  and  our  Embassador 
the  Earl  of  Bristol  to  try  his  wit,  for  at  that  time  was  Sir 
Walter  Aston  also  Embassador  at  Spain,  in  all  occurrences 
Asto7i  complied  with  the  Prince  and  Duke,  Bristol  ran 
counter  ;  and  the  Duke  and  Bristol  hated  each  other 
mortally. 

"  Bristol  had  the  advantage  of  them  there,  as  having 
the  much  better  head-piece,  and  being  more  conversant 
and  dear  with  that  state,  wholly  complying  with  them, 
and  surely  had  done  them  very  acceptable  services  (and  in 
this  very  Treaty  was  one  of  the  pack)  Buchiufjliam  had 
the  advantage  of  him  in  England  (although  the  King  did 
now  hate  Bnckinr/liam,  yet  was  so  awed  that  he  durst  not 
discover  it.)  Then  BucJciiKjhavi  had  all  interest  in  his 
successor  by  this  journey,  so  that  he  laid  a  present  and 
future  foundation  of  his  succeeding  greatness. 

"For  all  his  power  and  greatness,  Bristol  di\^  not  for- 
bear to  put  all  scorns,  affronts,  and  tricks  on  him,  and 
Buchingham  lay  so  open,  as  gave  the  other  advantage 
enough  by  his  lascivious  carriage  and   miscarriage. 

"  Amongst  all  his  tricks,  he  plays  one  so  cunningly,  that 
it  cost  him  all  the  hair  on  his  head,  and  put  him  to  the 
diet  ;  for  it  should  seem  he  made  court  to  Conde  Olivons 
L.  a  very  handsome  Lady  ;  But  it  was  so  plotted  betwixt 
the  Lady,  her  Husband,  and  Bristol,  that  instead  of 
that  beauty,  he  had  a  notorious  Stew  sent  him,  and  surely 
his  carriage  there  was  so  lascivious,  that  had  ever  the 
match  been  really  intended  for  our  Prince,  yet  such  a 
Companion,  or  Guardian,  was  enough  to  have  made  them 
believe  he  had  been  that  way  addicted,  and  so  have  frus- 
trated the  marriage,  that  being  a  grave  and  sober  Nation, 
Buckingham  of  a  light  and  loose  behavior  ;  and  had  the 
Prince  himself  been  of  an  extraordinary  well  staid  temper, 
the  other  had  been  a  very  ill  Guardian  unto  liim. 

"  But  now  many  Lords  flockt  over,  and  many  Servants, 
that  he  might  appear  the  Prince  of  England,  and  like  him- 
self, though  he  came  thither  like  a  private  person,  many 
Treaties  were,  sometimes  hope,  sometimes  despair,  some- 
times great  assurance,  then  all  dasht  again,  and  however, 
his  entertainment  was  as  great  as  possible  that  State  could 


LIFE    OF    BACON".  313 

afford  ;  yet  was  his  addresses  to,  and  with  the  Lady  such, 
as  rendered  him  mean,  and  a  private  person,  rather  than 
a  Prince  of  that  State,  that  formerly  had  made  Spaiji  feel 
the  weight  of  their  anger,  and  power  ;  and  was  like  a  Ser- 
vant, not  a  Suitor,  for  he  never  was  admitted,  but  to  stand 
barehead  in  her  presence,  nor  to  talk  with  her,  but  in  a 
full  audience  with  much  company. 

"  At  last,  after  many  heats  and  cools,  many  hopes  and 
despairs,  the  Prince  wrote  a  letter  to  his  Father  of  a  des- 
perate despair,  not  only  of  not  enjoying  his  Lady,  but  of 
never  more  returning,  with  this  passage.  You  must  now 
Sir  look  upon  my  Sister  and  her  children,  forgetting  ever 
you  had  such  a  Son,  and  never  think  more  of  me. 

"  Now  the  folly  of  this  voyage,  plotted  only  by  green 
heads,  began  to  appear,  many  showing  much  sorrow, 
many  smiling  at  their  follies  (and  in  truth  glad  in  their 
Hearts)  and  however  the  King  was  a  cunning  dissembler, 
and  showed  much  outward  sorrow,  as  he  did  for  Prince 
Henries  death,  yet  something  was  discerned,  which  made 
his  Court  believe  little  grief  came  near  his  heart,  for  that 
hatred  he  bear  to  Buckingham  long  (as  being  satiated 
with  him)  and  his  adoring  the  rising  sun,  not  looking 
after  the  sun  setting,  made  the  world  believe  he  would  think 
it  no  ill  bargain  to  loose  his  son,  so  Buckivgham  might  be 
lost  also,  for  had  he  not  been  weary  of  Buckingham  he 
would  never  have  adventured  him  in  such  a  journey,  all 
his  Courtiers  knew  that  very  well. 

"And  for  a  further  illustration  of  his  weariness  of 
Buckingham,  it  appeared  in  the  Parliament  before,  when 
the  King  gave  so  much  way  to  his  mine,  that  Bucking- 
liani  challenged  him  that  he  did  seek  his  mine,  and  being 
generally  held  a  lost  man,  the  King  to  make  it  appear  it 
was  not  so,  and  that  the  King  durst  not  avow  his  own 
act,  brought  him  off  from  that  Parliament,  but  Bucking- 
ham hated  the  King  ever  afterwards." 

It  is  here  further  stated  that  after  the  marriage  of 
Buckingham  the  king's  edge  was  taken  off  from  all  favor- 
ites, but  that  he  durst  not  choose  another,  and  that  the 
king  stood  in  fear  of  the  now  intimacy  between  the  Prince 
and  Buckingham,  toward  whom  great  disgust  was  enter- 
tained by  one  Juniossa,  a  Spanish  ambassador  extraor- 
dinary, and  concerning  which  we,  p.  48,  have  : 

"  This  Juniossa  being  a  brave  daring  Gentleman,  used 


314  LIFE   OF    BACON". 

some  speeches  in  the  derogation  of  the  Prince  and  Buch- 
ingliam,  as  if  they  were  dangerous  to  the  old  King  ;  nay, 
Juniossa  sent  one  Padro  Mecestria,  a  Spanish  Jesuite,  and 
a  great  Statesman,  to  King  James,  to  let  him  know,  that 
he,  under  confession,  had  found  the  King  was  by  Buck- 
incjliayn,  or  by  his  procurement,  to  be  killed,  but  whether 
by  Poyson,  Pistol,  Dagger,  etc.,  that  he  could  not  tell. 

"  The  King,  after  the  hearing  this,  was  extream  melan- 
choly, and  in  that  passion  was  found  by  Bvckingliam  at 
his  return  to  him.  The  King,  as  soon  as  ever  he  espied 
him,  said,  Ah  Stenny,  Stenny,  for  so  he  ever  called  him  in 
familiarity,  wilt  thou  kill  me?  at  which  Buchhigliam 
started,  and  said,  who  Sir  hath  so  abused  yon  ?  at  which 
the  King  sate  silent ;  out  went  Buckingham,  fretting  and 
fuming,  asked,  who  had  been  with  the  King  in  his  ab- 
sence?" 

We  would  gladly  quote  further  did  space  permit.  This 
work  is  little  more  than  a  pamphlet  consisting  of  but 
sixty-one  pages,  and  by  the  initials  A.  AV\  was  put  forth 
in  1G50,  and  it  has  generally  been  attributed  to  Antiiony 
Weldon.  As  we  regard  the  A.  D.  B.  Mask  as  having  been 
written  by  Bacon  before,  so  we  regard  this  pamphlet  as 
written  by  him  subsequent  to  his  fall,  though  ingenious 
interpolations  mav  have  been  made  between  pp.  39  and 
44. 

In  the  breaking  off  of  the  Spanish  marriage  alliance, 
Bacon,  as  well  as  the  populace,  was  delighted,  as  he  had 
noAV  new  hopes  from  the  Prince.  The  play  of  The  Tem- 
pest must  have  been  completed  at  about  this  time,  as  the 
Great  First  Folio,  of  which  it  forms  the  first  piece,  is  said 
to  have  appeared  during  this  year,  1G23. 

Upon  the  return  of  the  Prince  to  England  Bacon  at 
once  addressed  to  him  the  following  letter,  accompanied 
with  a  copy  of  the  De  Augmentis,  which  then  made  its 
first  appearance. 

"  It  may  please  your  Excellent  Highness  :  I  send 
your  highness  in  all  humbleness,  my  book  of  Advance- 
ment of  Learning,  translated  into  Latin,  but  so  enlarged, 
as  it  may  go  for  a  new  work.  It  is  a  book,  I  think,  will 
live,  and  be  a  citizen  of  the  world,  as  English  books  are 
not.'     For  Henry  the  Eighth,   to  deal  truly  with  your 

^  In  Hamlet  it  was  tlie  babe.  In  the  Advancement  of  Learning  it 
was  the  child.     And  now,  as  the  De  Augmentis,  it  was  a  citizen  of 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  315 

highness,  T  did  so  despair  of  my  health  this  summer,  as  I 
was  glad  to  chose  some  such  work,  as  1  might  compass 
within  days  ;  so  far  was  I  from  entering  into  a  work  of 
length.  Your  highness'  return  hath  been  my  restorative. 
When  I  shall  wait  upon  your  highness,  I  shall  give  you  a 
fiirtlier  account.  So  I  most  humbly  kiss  your  highness 
hands,  resting 

"  Your  highness'  most  devoted  servant." 

"  I  would  (as  I  wrote  to  the  Duke  in  Spain)  I  could  do 
your  highness'  journey  any  honour  with  my  pen.  It 
began  like  a  fable  of  the  poets  ;  but  it  deserveth  all  in  a 
piece  a  worthy  narration."  ^     (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  152.) 

Bacon  also  prepared  minutes  for  a  letter  to  Buckingham 
in  these  words  : 

"  That  I  am  exceeding  glad  his  grace  is  come  home  with 
so  fair  a  reputation  of  a  sound  Protestant,  and  so  constant 
for  the  king's  honour  and  errand. 

"  His  grace  is  now  to  consider  that  his  reputation  will 
vanish  like  a  dream  except  now,  upon  his  return,  he  do 
some  remarkable  act  to  fix  it,  and  bind  it  in, 

"  They  have  a  good  wise  proverb  in  the  country  whence 
he  Cometh,  taken  I  think  from  a  gentleman's  sampler,* 
Qui  en  no  da  nudo,  pievdo  piDito,  '  he  that  tieth  not  a 
knof  upon  his  thread,  loseth  his  stitch.' 

the  world.  It  had  passed  through  different  swaddlings,  and  was 
now  in  its  citizen's  clothes. 

'  Note  in  the  play  of  The  Tempest  the  use  of  this  expression 
"  your  highness." 

'^  Note  this  allnsion  to  fable  in  the  foregoing  quotation  from 
Weldon,  p.  311. 

^  Note  llu!  use  of  the  words  "gentlewoman"  and  "wench" 
through  all  tiiis  literature,  and  as  to  the  word  "  sampler,"  here  used, 
we  quote  from  Gulliver's  Travels,  p.  193,  as  follows  : 

"  Siie  furl'd  her  sampler,  and  haul'd  in  her  thread, 
And  stuck  her  needle  into  Grildrig's  bed, 
Then  spread  her  hands,  and  with  a  bounce  let  fall 
Her  baby,  like  the  giant  in  Guildhall." 

^  Promus,  614.  He  who  does  not  tie  the  knot  loses  the  end  (of  his 
string).  This  use  of  the  words  "  knot"  and  "  thread  "  will  be  found 
in  nearly  every  phase  of  this  literature,  and  quite  often  in  the  pla3^s. 
In  the  introduction  to  Defoe's  Duncan  Campbell  we  have  : 

"  This  knot  I  knit. 
To  know  the  thing  I  know  not  yet, 
That  1  may  see 
The  man  that  shall  my  husband  be  ; 


316  LIFE    OF    BACON". 

"  Any  particular,  I  that  live  in  darkness,  cannot  pro- 
pound. Let  his  grace,  who  seeth  clear,  make  his  choice  ; 
but  let  some  such  thing  be  done,  and  then  this  reputation 
will  stick  by  him  ;  and  his  grace  may  afterwards  be  at  the 
better  liberty  to  take  and  leave  off  the  future  occasions 
that  shall  present."     (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  152.) 

We  would  have  the  reader  here  call  into  relation  the 
w^ord  "  thread,"  as  used  in  the  foregoing  notes,  as  used  at 
p.  281,  as  used  in  Bacon's  Letter,  p,  303,  and  as  used  in 
the  play  of  The  Tempest,  Act  iv.,  sc.  1,  p.  78,  where 
Bacon,  as  Prospero,  again  tenders  to  the  Prince  liis  Mi- 
randa, his  philosophy,  saying,  "for  I  have  given  you  here 
a  thread  of  mine  own  life,  or  that  for  which  1  live  ;  whom 
once  again  I  tender  to  thy  hand."  ' 

The  remaining  thread  of  Bacon's  years  will  be  found 
chiefly  in  his  literary  work.  In  his  dedicatory  letter  to 
liishop  Andrews,  in  1622,  of  the  fragment  entitled  the 
"  Holy  AVar,"  he  mentions  the  overthrow  of  Demosthenes, 
Cicero,  and  Seneca,  and  the  after  manner  of  expending 
their  time.     As  to  Seneca  he  says  : 

"  Seneca  indeed,  who  was  condemned  for  many  corrup- 
tions and  crimes,  and  banished  into  a  solitary  island,  kept 
a  mean  ;  and  though  his  pen  did  not  freeze  yet  lie  ab- 
stained from  intruding  into  matters  of  business  ;  but  si)ent 
his  time  in  writing  books  of  excellent  argument  and  use 
for  all  ages  ;"  though  he  might  have  made  better  choice 
sometimes,  of  his  dedications. 

"  These  examples  confirmed  me  much  in  a  resolution, 
whereunto  I  was  otherwise  inclined,  to  spend  my  time 
wholly  in  writing  ;  and  to  put  forth  that  poor  talent,  or 
half  talent,  or  what  it  is,'  that  God  hath  given  me,  not, 

How  he  goes,  and  what  he  wears, 
And  what  he  does  all  days  and  years." 
'  See  this  identical  expression,  "thread  of  my  life,"  in  Bacon's 
letter  to  Queen  Elizabeth  in  1599.     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  ii.,  p.  165.) 
*  And  we  shall  later  see  what  Bacon  did  for  the  ages  to  come. 
^  It  may  thus  be  seen  'that  Bacon  was  conscious  of  an  uniisual 
talent.    Upon  this  point  see  his  prayer  already  quoted  at  p.  278.    Read 
likewise  his  letter,  our  Head  light,  in  connection  with  the  following 
from  Henry  IV.,  pari  1,  Act  iii.,  sc.  1,  p.  230  : 
"  Cousin,  of  manv  men 
I  do  not  bear  these  crossings.     Give  me  leave 
To  tell  you  once  again, — that  at  my  birth 
The  front  of  heaven  was  full  of  fiery  shapes  ; 


LIFE    OF    BACON.  317 

as  heretofore,  to  particular  exchanges,  but  to^  hanks  or 
mounts  of  perpetuity,  which  will  not  break.  Therefore, 
having  not  long  since  set  forth  a  part  of  my  Instauration  ; 
-which  is  the  work  that,  in  mine  own  judgment,  '  si  nun- 
quam  fallit  imago,'  I  do  most  esteem  :  I  think  to  proceed 
in  some  new  parts  thereof  ;  and  although  I  have  received 
from  many  parts  beyond  the  seas,  testimonies  touching 
that  work,  sucli  as  beyond  which  I  could  not  expect  at 
the  first  in  so  abstruse  an  argument ;  yet,  nevertheless, 
I  have  just  cause  to  doubt,  that  it  flies  too  high  over 
men's  heads  :  I  have  a  purpose,  therefore,  though  I  break 
the  order  of  time,'  to  draw  it  down  to  the^sense,  by  some 
patterns  of  a  natural  story  and  inquisition." 

He  here  also  says  :  "  As  for  my  Essays,  and  some  par- 
ticulars of  that  nature,  I  count  them  but  as  the  recreations 
of  my  other  studies,  and  in  that  sort  purpose  to  continue 
them  :  though  I  am  not  ignorant  that  those  kind  of  writ- 
ings would,  with  less  pains  and  embracement,  perhaps, 
yield  more  lustre  and  reputation  to  my  name  than  those 
other  which  I  have  in  hand.*  But  I  account  the  use  that 
a  man  should  seek  of  the  publication  of  his  own  writings 
before  his  death,  to  be  but  an  untimely  anticipation  of 
that  which  is  proper  to  follow  a  man,  and  not  to  go  along 
with  him."     (Works,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  435-3tj.) 

For  these  essays  let  Defoe's  "  Review"  and  the  works 
of  Addison  be  examined.  They  were  doubtless  begun  as 
early  as  1608.  In  the  foregoing  may  be  seen  Bacon '^s 
expressed  intention  of  writing  "  patterns  of  natural  story." 

The  goats  ran  from  the  mountains,  and  the  herds 

Were  strangely  clamorous  to  the  frighted  tields. 

These  signs  have  mark'd  me  extraordinary  ; 

And  all  the  courses  of  my  life  do  show 

I  am  not  in  the  roll  of  common  men. 

Where  is  he  living,— clipp'd  in  with  the  sea 

That  chides  the  banks  of  England.  Scotland,  Wales,— 

Which  calls  me  pupil,  or  hath  read  to  me  ? 

And  bring  him  out,  that  is  but  woman's  son. 

Can  trace  me  in  the  tedious  ways  of  art, 

And  hold  me  pace  in  deep  experiments.' 

1  What  is  here  meant  by  breaking  the  order  of  time  ? 

2  Bacon's  Essay  entitled  '•  Of  Studies"  opens  thus  :  '  Studies  serve 
for  delight,  for  ornament,  and  for  ability.  Their  chief  use  for  de- 
light, is  in  privateuess  and  retiring  ;  for  ornament,  is  in  discourse  ; 
and  for  ability,  is  in  the  judgnieut  and  disposition  of  business." 


318  LIFE    OF    BACON. 

Observe  also,  in  connection  with  Crusoe,  bis  mention  of  Sen- 
eca's experience  in  a  solitary  island.  And  so  we  bring 
this  sketch  to  conclusion  b^'  calling  attention  to  the  sig- 
nificant fact  that  to  Lord  Bacon's  last  will,  executed 
December  19,  1625,  one  Will  Atkins  M^as  a  witness,  and  so 
by  that  name,  identical  in  form,  have  we  the  prominent 
character  late  in  the  story  of  Crusoe. 


THE  TEMPEST. 


We  here  set  forth  some  further  thoughts  touching  that 
most  subtle  piece  of  work  known  as  the  ph\y  of  The  Tem- 
pest. Its  leading  characters  we  understand  to  be,  Bacon 
as  Prospero  ;  Miranda,  his  child  of  philosophy,  his  Prot- 
estant heir,  that  was  to  be  wedded  to  a  prince  of  power  ; 
and  she  desiring  her  husband  to  play  for  a  score  of  king- 
doms ;  while  as  to  Caliban,  the  monster,  the  warning,  this 
character  we  reserve  for  more  specific  statement. 

The  opening  of  the  voyage  is  the  entry  of  James  the 
First  upon  his  third  Parliament,  in  1621.  The  tempest, 
the  storm  for  reform,  the  vessel,  the  ship  of  state. 

James,  as  Alonzo,  is  at  this  time  so  far  absorbed  in 
Naples — in  other  words,  in  Spain  and  the  Spanish  mar- 
riage alliance,  as  to  be  represented  a  dual  character,  stand- 
ing as  the  king  of  both  countries  ;  while  the  real  King  of 
Spain,  as  Sebastian,  is  the  brother— in  other  words,  our 
dear  brother,  the  King  of  Spain. 

The  king's  great  screen,  Buckingham,  as  Antonio,  is 
the  false  brother  to  Bacon,  or  Prospero,  and  by  whom  his 
Milan,  his  dukedom,  his  empire  of  learning,  is  bowed  "  to 
most  ignoble  stooping."  Buckingham  being  in  this  sense 
brother  to  Bacon,  to  Miranda  he  is  the  false  uncle. 

The  Si)anish  ambassador,  Gondomar,  as  Gonzalo,  is 
represented  as  master  of  the  design.  He  to  Bacon,  or 
Prospero,  became  the  noble  Neapolitan  who  gave  rich 
garments  and  furnished  him  with  books  from  his  own 
fibrary,  which  he  prized  above  his  dukedom. 

The  king's  son,  Prince  Charles,  as  Ferdinand,  is  the 
young  Prince  of  power,  to  whom  Bacon,  or  Prospero, 
sought  to  wed  his  Miranda,  while  the  king  sought  to  wed 
him  to  the  Infanta  of  Spain. 

The  vessel  is  represented  as  trying  to  make  two  courses. 
The  mentioned  parties  represent  the  one,  and  the  rabble 
the  other  of  these  courses,  the  hitter  having  control  of  the 


320  THE   TEMPEST. 

vessel.  After  tlie  storm's  collapse,  and  according  to  de- 
sign, all  were  left  in  confusion,  upon  which  confusion 
Prospero  sought  to  exercise  his  art.  He  says  he  saved  the 
vessel,  and  had  done  all  for  Miranda's  sake,  and  that  it 
was  she  that  had  given  "  An  undergoing  stomach  to  bear 
up  against  what  should  ensue." 

Bacon  himself  moved  the  Parliament  to  its  purgings, 
and  the  object  of  the  storm  was  to  bring  the  king,  the 
Prince,  and  Buckingham  to  their  senses  ;  and  the  king 
and  his  party  are  represented  as  having  been  cast  upon 
the  same  sad  island  to  which  their  dealings  had  con- 
signed him.  Out  of  this  confusion  the  Prince,  and  as  de- 
signed, becomes  wedded  to  his  Protestant  heir,  to  his 
philosophy,  and  his  dukedom  restored.  This,  though  not 
aceom])lished.  Bacon  doubtless  thought  he  had  accom- 
plished at  the  writing  of  this  play,  and  which  must  have 
been  completed  soon  after  the  breach  of  the  Spanish  alli- 
ance, to  have  permitted  its  entry  in  the  Great  Folio  of 
1G23.  But  Charles  soon  fell  away  from  Bacon's  influ- 
ence, as  the  facts,  as  well  as  the  play,  will  show.  As  it 
was  issued  during  the  life  of  James,  it  was  drowned 
deep  in  subtlety,  otherwise  its  interpretation  might  have 
cost  Bacon  his  head.  It  is,  we  think,  a  play  with  the 
underplot  here  indicated.     See  note  as  to  underplot,  p.  88. 

Through  these  doings  Bacon  by  the  Parliamentary  sen- 
tence was  himself  excluded  from  London,  from  his  library, 
from  his  estate,  and  he  and  Miranda  were  for  a  time  at 
sea  and  without  aid.  Some  little  poetic  license  in  this 
must  be  allowed,  as  also  in  putting  language  into  Miranda's 
mouth,  and  which  must  be  allowed  in  any  interpretation 
of  this  subtle  piece  of  work.  Concerning  Miranda,  see 
pp.  87,  224,  225. 

We  understand  the  six  airy  spirits  of  the  play  to  stand 
for  the  five  human  senses,  over  which  Ariel,  or  the  cogita- 
tive faculty  of  the  mind,  as  the  sixth  spirit,  holds  sway. 
That  Ariel  is  the  highest  order  among  his  fellows  may  be 
seen.  Act  iv,,  sc.  1,  p.  80,  where  we  have 


"  An.  What  would  my  potent  master  ?  here  I  am 
Pro.  Tiiou  and  thy  meaner  fellows'  your  last  ser 


service 


'This  word  "fellows,"  used  throughout  the  plays,  throughout 
Tlie  Pilgrim's  Progress,  we  shall  later  call  into  relation  with  the 
New  Atlantis. 


THE   TEMPEST.  321 

Did  worthily  perform  ;  and  I  must  use  you 
In  such  another  trick  :  Go,  bring  the  rabble, 
O'er  wliotn  I  gi^'c  thee  power,  Iiere,  to  tliis  place  : 
Incite  them  to  quick  motion  ;  for  I  must 
Bestow  upon  the  eyes  of  this  young  couple 
Some  vanity  of  mine  art  ;  it  is  my  promise, 
And  they  expect  it  from  me. ' ' 

Bacon  says:  "  Ilenoe  one  of  the  moderns  lias  ingen- 
iously reduced  all  the  power  of  the  soul  to  motion,  noting 
the  precipitancy  of  some  of  the  ancients,  who,  fixing  their 
thoughts  prematurely  on  memory,  imagination,  and  reason, 
have  neglected  the  cogitative  faculty,  which,  however, 
]ilays  the  chief  role  in  the  work  of  conception.  For  he 
that  remembers,  cogitates,  as  likewise  he  who  fancies  or 
reasons  ;  so  that  the  soul  of  man  in  all  her  moods  dances 
to  the  musical  airs  of  the  cogitations,  which  is  that  re- 
bounding of  the  Nymphs."  (De  Augmentis,  Book  2,  ch. 
13,  p.  105,  Bolin's  ed.)    See  quotation,  p.  62. 

By  those  nymphs  did  Bacon  bring  to  viow  the  subtle 
ends  sought  in  this  work,  and  its  magic  is  the  magic  of 


genius. 


« 


While  Charles,  as  Ferdinand,  seeks  to  place  his  sister 
Elizabeth,  Claribel  in  the  play,  upon  the  throne  of  Bohe- 
mia, he  is  in  accord  with  Bacon's  wishes.  See  p.  310. 
But  Buckingham  thwarts  Bacon  in  this,  and  drew  the 
Prince  anew  to  the  Infanta  and  to  Spain. 

Prospero  then  interposes  between  him- and  his  daughter 
and  calls  him  a  "traitor,"  an  "impostor."  But  after 
the  breach  of  the  Spanish  alliance  he  renews  the  spell. 
As  to  what  Miranda  is  to  yield  when  wedded  to  power,  see 
the  whole  of  sc.  1,  Act  iv.  Here  we  find  pictured  forth 
what  Bacon  claimed  would  be  the  results  of  his  philosophy. 
It  was  to  bring  peace  and  plenty.  It  was  to  increase  men's 
bread  and  wine.  We  here  also  find  an  allusion  to  certain 
groves  : 

"  Whose  shadow  the  dismissed  bachelor  loves, 
Being  lass  lorn." 

As  to  Charles  being  lass-lorn  upon  the  breach  of  the  Span- 
ish alliance,  see  our  quotation  from  Weldon,  p.  313. 

This  play,  as  does  the  New  Atlantis,  opens  abruptly  in 
the  midst  of  a  voyage,  and  in  case  of  the  New  Atlantis  the 
vessel  is  headed  by  way  of  the  South  Sea  to  China  and 
11 


322  THE   TEMPEST. 

Japan,'  and  thereby  hangs  a  tale  yet  untold,  in  connection 
with  Bacon's  troubles.  As  we  enter  npon  its  further  con- 
sideration, let  Macaulay's  words  as  to  Bacon  be  taken  with 
us  as  we  go,  wherein  he  says  :  "  In  wit,  if  by  wit  be  meant 
the  power  of  perceiving  analogies  between  things  which 
appear  to  have  nothing  in  common,  he  never  had  an 
equal."    And  see  Promus  note  1006,  p.  158. 

The  play  opens  in  some  cautionary  words  by  those  in 
command  of  the  vessel,  and  the  king  and  his  party  imme- 
diately appear  upon  its  deck,  and  the  king,  as  Alonzo,  in 
his  first  speech  to  the  crew,  says  : 

"  Alon.  Good  boatswain,  have  care.  Where's  the  master  ?  Play 
tlie  men."  - 

By  the  words  "  Play  the  men,"  Hudson  in  a  note  says  : 
"  That  is,  act  with  spirit,  behave  like  men."  Had  these 
words  been  intended  as  a  question  they  would  have  been 
followed  with  a  mark  of  interrogation. 

The  popular  discontent  in  Parliament  at  this  period 
toward  the  king  may  be  seen  in  the  boatswain's'  speech 
soon  after,  in  the  words  "  What  care  these  roarers  for 
the  name  of  king?"  After  some  converse  with  the  rabble 
by  the  king's  party  the  boatswain,  as  to  the  vessel,  says  : 

"  Boats.  Lay  her  ahold,  a-hold  :  set  her  two  courses  ;  off  to  sea 
again  ;  lay  fier  off." 

The  two  courses  for  the  vessel,  as  already  indicated, 
were  :  1.   That  trying  to   be   made  by  the  king's  party 

'  Note  the  references  to  "  China"  and  "  Japan"  in  the  New 
Atlantis  and  in  the  various  phases  of  this  literature,  and  particu- 
larly in  the  Serious  Reflections  of  Robinson  Crusoe. 

'  In  many  places  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  do  we  find  this  ex- 
pression, "  play  the  man."  On  p.  330  it  is  said  :  "  Verily,  Christian 
did  here  play  the  man,  and  showed  himself  as  stout  as  Hercules 
could,  had  he  been  here,  even  he  himself."  And  see  pp.  192,  353, 
380  ;  and  on  p.  331  we  have  : 

"  The  man  so  bravely  play'd  the  man, 
He  made  the  fiend  to  fly  ; 
Of  wliich  a  monument  I  stand, 
The  same  to  testify . " 

^  This  word  "  boatswain"  may  be  found  in  nearly  every  branch 
of  this  literature.  In  Robinson  Crusoe,  p.  8,  we  have  :  "  However, 
the  storm  was  so  violent,  that  I  saw  what  is  not  often  seen,  the 
master,  the  boatswain,  and  some  others,  more  sensible  than  the  rest, 
at  their  prayers,  and  expecting  every  moment  the  ship  would  go  to 
the  bottom." 


THE   TEMPEST.  323 

toward  Catholic  influences  and  the  Spanish  alliance  ;  and, 
2.  That  pursued  by  the  rabble,  who,  recklessly  seeking  re- 
form, had  control  of  the  vessel  or  ship  of  state. 

Concerning  the  nautical  knowledge  displayed  in  this 
play  and  in  the  plays  generally,  as  well  as  that  displayed 
in  portions  of  the  Defoe  literature— much  marvelled  at  in 
Defoe— we  refer  the  reader  to  Bacon's  writings  in  general, 
which  are  nautical  in  structure,  and  in  particular  to  his 
"  History  of  the  Winds,"  and  where  will  be  found  mi- 
nutely described  the  masts,  sails,  and  the  motion  of  wind 
in  the  sails  of  vessels.'  (Works,  vol.  iii.  pp.  456-58.)  As 
to  geography  it  is  needless  to  say  that  Bacon's  knowledge 
was  simply  encyclopaedic,  and  that  the  world's  pulse  was 
ever  beneath  his  forefinger.'  Under  the  figure  of  an  in- 
tellectual globe,  he  in  the  Advancement  of  Learning  ex- 
amined the  state  of  the  world's  then  knowledge,  marking 
the  desert  portions,  and  those  portions  that  were  but  par- 
tially discovered  or  explored.'  And  so  again  are  we  re- 
minded  of  our  Head-light  :  "  For  I  have  taken  all  knowl- 
edge to  be  my  providence." 

In  the  first  or  wrecking  scene  Gondomar,  as  Gonzalo, 
says  : 

"  Oon.  The  king  and  prince  at  prayers  !  let  us  assist  them. 
For  our  cause  is  as  theirs. " 

Scene  1  of  Act  ii.  opens  by  Gonzalo's  congratulating  the 
King  and  his  party  upon  their  escape  from  the  storm, 
after  which  Prospero's  condition  is  covertly  alluded  to 
thus  : 

"  Seb.  He  receives  comfort  like  cold  porridge. 
Ant.  The  visitor  will  not  give  him  o'er  so. 

Seb.  Look  ;  he's  winding  up  the  watch  of  his  wit :  bv  and  bv 
It  will  strike." 

AVe  understand  the  visitor  here  alluded  to,  to  be  the 
mentioned  Spanish  ambassador,  and  who  on  the  next  page 
speaks  of  "  dolour"  *  coming  to  one  who  entertains  every 

'  Promus,  3.35.     (With  favoring  breezes  Neptune  filled  their  sails.) 
*  See  his  Notes  on  the  States  of  Europe,  made  even  in  his  youth. 
3  In  his  essay  entitled  "  Of  Great  Place"  he  makes  use  of  this 
figure,  saying  :  "  In  the  discharge  of  thy  place  set  before  thee  the 
best  examples  ;  for  imitation  is  a  globe  of  precepts." 
_  *  The  word   "dolour"  is  a  Baconian  word.      In  his  essay  en- 
titled "Of  Death"  he  says:  "He  that  dies  in  earnest  pursuit,  is 
like  one  that  is  wounded  in  hot  blood  ;  who  for  the  time  scarce 


3:^4  THE   TEMPEST. 

grief  that  is  offered,  and  he  is  shown  to  have  assisted 
Bacon.  ^  Following  this  speech  Buckingham,  as  Antonio, 
says  : 

"  Ant.  Fie  what  a  spendthrift  is  he  of  liis  tongue  ! 
Alon.  I  pr'ythee  spare. 
Gon.  Well,  I  have  clone  :  But  yet — 
Seb.  He  will  be  talking. 

Ant.  Which  of  them,  he,  or  Adrian,  for  a  good  wager,  first 
begins  to  crow  ?" 

Adrian,  the  Roman  emperor,  whose  reign  began  early 
in  the  second  century,  is  said  to  have  been  remarkable  for 
every  manly  and  scientific  accomplishment,  and  to  whom 
Bacon  most  likened  himself.  Adrian  rebuilt  Carthage 
and  Jerusalem,  and  on  the  site  of  Solomon's  temple  built 
the  temple  of  Jupiter.^  There  were  also  six  popes  by  this 
name,  Adrian  the  Fourth  having  been  born  near  St. 
Alban's,  in  Hertfordshire,  England,  and  he  is  the  only 
Englishman  who  has  occupied  the  Papal  chair,  and  whose 
name  was  not  Shakespeare,  but  Nicholas  Breakspear. 

On  the  next  page,  p.  45,  Prospero's  pockets,  and  his 
ignorance  as  to  the  true  cause  of  his  troubles,  are  alluded 
to,  thus  : 

'' Ard.  He  misses  not  much. 

iSeb.  No  ;  he  doth  but  mistake  the  truth  totally. 

Oon.  But  the  rarity  of  it  is,  which  is  indeed  almost  beyond 
credit, — 

Seb.  As  many  vouch 'd  rarities  are. 

Oon. — that  our  garments,  being,  as  they  were,  drenched  in 
the  sea,  hold,  notwithstanding,  their  freshness,  and  gloss  ;  being 
rather  new  dyed  than  staiu'd  with  salt  water.  ^ 

feels  the  hurt  ;  and  therefore  a  mind  fixed  and  bent  upon  somewhat 
that  is  good  doth  avert  the  dolours  of  death." 

'  See  Bacon's  letters  to  Gondomar.  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii., 
pp.  318.  411.  421-23.) 

^  Bacon  says  :  "  Adrian  was  the  greatest  inquirer  that  ever  lived, 
and  au  insatiable  explorer  into  everything  curious  and  profound." 
(De  Augmentis.  Book  1,  Bohn  ed.,  p.  60.) 

^  Promus,  904.  Salt  to  water,  whence  it  came.  (Salts  onus  unde 
venerat,  ilhic  abiit. — Eras.  Ad.,  257.  The  freight  of  water  has  gone 
whence  it  came — said  of  the  loss  of  iH-gotten  gains,  etc.)  Bacon  says  : 
"  Indeed  I  knew  two  great  and  wise  counsellors  on  whom  the  weight 
of  business  principally  rested,  with  whom  it  was  a  constant  care  and 
especial  art,  whenever  they  conferred  with  their  princes  on  matters  of 
state,  not  to  end  tlieir  discourse  with  matters  relating  to  the  business 
itself,  but  always  by  way  of  divertissement  to  draw  it  away  by  some 
jest  or  some  agreeable  news,  and  so  end  by  washing  off  (as  the  prov- 


THE   TEMPEST.  325 

Ant.  If  but  one  of  his  pockets  could  speak,  would  it  not  say,  he 
lies? 

Seb.  Ay,  or  very  falsely  pocket  up  his  report." 

Again,  at  the  moment  when  the  prince  is  about  to  sol- 
emnize his  rehitions  with  Miranda,  same  scene  and  act, 
p.  87,  Prospero  is  reminded  by  iVriel  of  the  forces  anew 
at  work  against  him,  and  which  he  strives  now  to  neu- 
tralize by  yielding  up  more  of  his  estate.     He  says  : 

"  Pro.  This  was  well  done,  my  bird. 

Thy  shape  invisible  retain  thou  still  : 
The  trumpery  in  my  house,  go,  bring  it  hither, 
For  state  to  catch  these  thieves. 

Ari.  I  go,  I  go.  [Exit. 

Pro.  A  devil,  a  born  devil,  on  whose  nature 
Nature  can  never  stick  ;  on  whom  my  pains. 
Humanly  taken,  all,  all  lost,  quite  lost  ; 
And  as  with  age  his  body  uglier  grows, 
So  his  mind  cankers  :  I  will  plague  them  all." 

Note  the  balance  of  this  scene.  In  the  mentioned  paper 
by  Bacon,  for  a  sought  interview  with  Buckingham,  p. 
283,  he  says  :  "  I  do  not  think  any  except  a  Turk  or  Tar- 
tar would  wish  to  have  a  further  chop  out  of  me."  But 
we  shall  have  occasion  later  to  return  to  this  feature  of  the 
play. 

The  wrecked  enterprise  is  in  sc.  1,  Act  ii.,  p.  46,  charged 
upon  the  King  himself  by  his  having  permitted  his  daughter 
Elizabeth,  Claribel  in  the  play,  to  marry  as  she  did,  she 
having  married  the  Protestant  Elector  Palatine  of  Bohe- 
mia, the  right  to  whoso  throne  was  claimed  by  Spain  or 
the  Catholics. 

Spain  at  this  time  held  a  higher  position  than  it  had 
since  the  defeat  of  the  Armada  in  1588.  With  renewed 
consciousness  of  power  the  old  policy  of  advancing  the  Ro- 
man faith  rekindled.  The  claim  to  the  throne  of  Bo- 
hemia by  the  English  people,  if  not  by  their  King,  was 
now  likely  to  thwart  the  marriage  alliance,  and  thus  result 
in  the  loss,  to  the  Catholic  cause,  of  the  King's  son.  Prince 
Charles,  who  after  the  Parliamentary  tempest  became  cool 
toward  the  alliance,  and  warm  to  his  sister's  interests  in 
the  throne  of  Bohemia.     Gonzalo  says  : 

erb  has  it)  their  salt  water  discourses  with  fresh."  (Phil.  Works, 
vol.  v.,  p.  41.)  Promus,  693.  When  it  was  too  salt  to  wash  with 
fresh  water  (when  speech  grovveth  in  bitterness  to  hud  talk  more 
grateful). 


326  THE   TEMrEST. 

"  Oon.  Is  not,  sir,  my  doublet  as  fresh  as  tlie  first  day  I  wore  it  ? 
I  mean  in  a  sort. 

Ant.  Tliat  sort  was  well  fish'd  for. 

Oon.  Wlien  I  wore  it  at  your  daughter's  marriage.' 

Alon.  You  cram  those  words  into  mine  ears,  against 
The  stomach^  of  my  sense.     'Would  I  had  never 
Married  my  daughter  there  !  for,  coming  theuce, 
My  son  is  lost  ;  and,  in  my  rate,  she  too, 
WJio  is  so  far  from  Italy  remov'd, 
I  ne'er  again  shall  see  her.     O  thou  mine  heir 
Of  Naples  and  of  Milan  !  what  strange  fish 
Hath  made  his  meal  on  thee  ? 

Fran.  Sir,  he  may  live  : 

I  saw  him  beat  the  surges  under  him, 
And  ride  upon  their  backs  :  he  trod  the  water, 
Whose  enmity  he  flung  aside,  and  breasted 
The  surge  most  swoln  that  met  him  :  his  bold  head 
'Bove  the  contentious  waves  lie  kept,  and  oar'd 
Himself  with  his  good  arms  in  lusty  stroke 
To  the  sliore,  that  o'er  his  wave-worn  basis  bow'd, 
As  stooping  to  relieve  him  :  I  not  doubt, 
He  came  alive  to  land. 

Alon.  No,  no  ;  he's  gone. 

8eb.  Sir,  you  may  thank  j^ourself  for  this  great  loss  ; 
That  would  not  bless  our  Europe  with  your  daughter, 
But  rather  lose  her  to  an  African  ; 
Where  she,  at  least,  is  banish'd  from  your  eye, 
Who  hath  cause  to  wet  the  grief  on't. 

Alon.  Pr'ythce,  peace. 

Seh.  You  were  kncel'd  to.  and  importun'd  otherwise 
By  all  of  us  ;  and  the  fair  soul  herself 
Weigh'd  between  loathness  and  obedience,  at 
Which  end  o'  the  beam  she'd  bow.     We  have  lost  your  son. 


'  We  have  an  impression  that  this  play  is  but  a  kind  of  rewrit- 
ing of  the  mask  performed  in  honor  of  the  marriage  of  the  king's 
daughter,  Elizabetii,  to  the  Prince  Palatine  in  1613. 

'  The  emphasis  placed  by  Bacon  upon  the  stomach  as  "  master  of 
the  house,"  we  have  noted  in  earlier  pages.  Pie  also  says  :  "My 
Lord,  I  tliank  God  my  wit  serpeth  me  not  to  deliver  any  opinion  to 
the  Queen,  which  my  stomach  serveth  me  not  to  maintain  ;  one  and 
the  same  conscience  of  duty  guiding  me  and  fortifying  me. ' '  (Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  ii.,  p.  161.)  He  likewise  uses  such  expressions  as 
"bridled  stomachs,"  "stomach  of  the  times,"  etc.  Note  the  em- 
phasis placed  upon  this  word  throughout  the  plays.  And  in  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  205,  we  have  :  "  And  verily,  since  this  is  the 
height  of  thy  stomach,  now  they  are  at  a  distance  from  us,  should 
they  appear  to  tbee  as  they  did  to  him,  they  might  put  tliee  to  second 
thoughts."    In  Richard  II.,  Act  i.,  sc.  1,  p.  22,  we  have  : 

"  High  stomach'd  are  they  both,  and  full  of  ire, 
.  In  rage  deaf  as  the  sea,  hasty  as  fire." 


THE   TEMPEST.  327 

I  fear,  forever  :  Milan  and  Naples'  have 
More  widows  in  them  of  this  business'  making,  ^ 
Than  we  bring  men  to  co^nfort  them  :  the  fault's 
Your  own. 

Alo7i.       So  is  the  dear'st  o'  the  loss. 

Gon.  My  lord  Sebastian, 

The  truth  you  speak  doth  lack  some  gentleness, 
And  time  to  speak  it  in  :  you  rub  the  sore. 
When  you  should  bring  the  plaster. '^ 

Seb.  Very  well. 

Aiit.  And  most  chirurgeonly. 

Gon.  It  is  foul  weather^  in  us  all,  good  sir, 
When  you  are  cloudy. 

Seb.  Foul  weather  ? 

Ant.  Very  foul. 

Gon.  Had  I  plantation  of  this  isle,  my  lord, — 

Ant.  He'd  sow't  with  uettle'*-seed." 

As  James'  son  and  daughter,  heirs  to  England's  throne, 
were  now  apparently  lost  to  the  Catholic  cause,  so  Spanisli 
interest  ceased  in  Buckingham,  through  whom  their  proj- 
ects had  been  moved.  James  or  Alonzo  was  now  coming 
to  realize  that  he  was  being  merely  trifled  with,  and  so  in 
the  same  scene,  p.  49,  following  Gonzalo's  views  of  a 
commonwealth,  we  have  : 

"  Ant.  Long  live  Gonzalo  ! 

Gon.  And,  do  you  mark  me,  sir  ? — 

Alon.  Pr'ythee,  no  more  :  thou  dost  talk  nothing  to  me. 

Gon.  I  do  well  believe  your  highness  ;  and  did  it  to  minister 
occasion  to  these  gentlemen,  who  are  of  such  sensible  and  nimble 
lungs,  that  they  always  use  to  laugh  at  nothing. 

Ant.   'Twas  you  we  laugh'd  at. 

Go7i.  Who,  in  this  kind  of  merry  fooling,  am  nothing  to  you  : 
so  you  may  continue,  and  laugh  at  nothing  still. 

Ant.  What  a  blow  was  there  given  ! 

Seb.  And  it  had  not  fallen  flat-long. 

'  Spain  in  1623  was  in  competition  with  France  and  Rome  for 
Naples.  See  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii. ,  pp.  464,  479,  500  ;  and  as  to 
Milan  see  p.  473. 

^  To  Bacon's  use  of  this  word  "plaster"  we  have  already  called 
attention.     See  p.  108. 

^  In  his  Essay  entitled  "  Of  Seditions  and  Troubles"  Bacon  says  : 
"  !3o  when  any  of  the  four  pillars  of  government  are  mainlj^  shaken 
or  weakened  (which  are  Religion,  .Justice,  Counsel,  and  Treasure), 
men  had  needs  to  pray  for  fair  weather."  Already  have  we  called 
attention  to  his  use  of  the  word  "  weather"  as  applied  to  mental 
stales. 

••  We  have  likewise  noted  his  application  of  the  word  "  nettle"  to 
the  Catholics  in  his  opening  speech  in  Chancery,  p.  801. 


328  THE   TEMPE3T. 

Oon.  You  are  gentlemen  of  brave  mettle:  you  would  lift  the 
moon  out  of  her  sphere,  if  she  would  continue  in  it  five  weeks  with- 
out changing." 

Hume  says  :  "  Gondomar  was  at  this  time  the  Spanish 
ambassador  in  England,  a  man  whose  flattery  was  the 
more  artful  because  covered  with  the  appearance  of  frank- 
ness and  sincerity — whose  politics  were  the  more  dangerous 
because  disguised  under  the  mask  of  mirth  and  pleasant- 
ry. He  now  made  offer  of  the  second  daughter  of  Spain 
to  Prince  Charles  ;  and,  that  he  might  render  the  tempta- 
tion irresistible  to  the  necessitous  monarch,  he  gave  hopes 
of  an  immense  fortune  which  should  attend  the  princess. 
The  court  of  Spain,  though  determined  to  contract  no 
alliance  with  a  heretic,  entered  into  negotiations  with 
James,  which  they  artfully  protracted,  and,  amid  every 
disappointment,  they  still  redoubled  his  hopes  of  success. 
The  transactions  in  Grermany,  so  important  to  the  Austrian 
greatness,  became  every  day  a  new  motive  for  this  duplicity 
of  conduct."     (Hume,  vol.  iv.,  p.  43.) 

Later  in  the  same  scene  and  act  Buckingham,  as  An- 
tonio, is  represented  as  trying  to  stimulate  Sebastian  to  a 
plot  to  rid  themselves  of  the  King  and  Gonzalo,  first  by 
swords  (pp.  50-56),  and  then  by  poison  (pp.  72-77),  and  to 
the  end  that  Sebastian,  the  real  King  of  Spain,  may  have 
the  crown.     And  so,  beginning  at  p.  51,  we  have  : 

"  Seb.  What  a  strange  drowsiness  possesses  them  ! 

Ant.  It  is  the  quality  o'  the  climate. 

Seb.  Why 

Doth  it  not  then  our  eye -lids  sink  ?    I  find  not 
Myself  disposed  to  sleep. 

Ant.  Nor  I  :  my  spirits  are  nimble. 

They  fell  together  all,  as  by  consent  ;' 
They  dropp'd,  as  by  a  thunder-stroke.     What  might 
Worthy  Sebastian  !— O,  what  might ! — No  more  : — 
And  yet,  methinks,  I  see  it  in  thy  face, 
Wliat  thou  should 'st  be  :  The  occasion  speaks  thee  ;  and 
My  strong  imagination  sees  a  crown 
Dropping  upon  thy  head. 

Seb.  What  !  art  thou  waking  ? 

Ant.  Do  you  not  hear  me  speak  ? 

Seb.  I  do  ;  and,  surely, 

It  is  a  sleepy  language  ;  and  thou  speak'st 

'  Bacon  in  many  places  speaks  of  the  consent  of  bodies,  and  of 
their  falliog    together  as  by  consent.     In  sub.   36  of  his  Natural 
History  we  have:  "For  nothing  is  more  frequent  tiian  motion  of 
ousent  in  the  body  of  man."     And  please  see  p.  48. 


THE   TEMPEST.  3:^9 

Out  of  thy  sleep  :  What  is  it  thou  didst  say  ? 
This  is  a  strange  repose,  to  be  asleep 
With  eyes  wide  opcu  ;  slandiug,  speaking,  moving, 
And  yet  so  fast  asleep. 

Ant.  "Noble  Sebastian, 

Thou  let'st  thy  fortune  sleep— die  rather  ;  wink'st^ 
Whiles  thou  art  waking. 

Seb.  Thou  dost  snore  distmctly  : 

There's  meaning  in  thy  snores. 

Ant.  I  am  more  serious  than  my  custom  :  you 
Must  be  so  too,  if  heed  me  ;  which  to  tlo, 
Trebles  thee  o'er. 

Seb.  Well  ;  I  am  standing  water. 

Ant.  I'll  teach  you  how  to  flow. 

g^l,^  Do  so  :  to  ebb. 

Hereditary  sloth  instructs  tbee. 

Ant.  O  ! 

If  you  but  knew  how  you  the  purpose  cherish, 
Whiles  thus  you  mock  it !  how,  in  stripping  it, 
You  more  invest  it  !     Ebbing  men,  indeed, 
Most  often  do  so  near  the  bottom  run 
By  their  own  fear,  or  sloth. 

Seb.  Pr'ythee,  say  on  : 

The  setting  of  thine  eye,  and  cheek,  proclaim 
A  matter  from  thee  ;  and  a  birth,  indeed, 
Which  throes  thee  much  to  yield. 

A)it.  Thus,  sir: 

Although  this  lord  of  weak  remembrance,  this, 
(Who  shall  be  of  as  little  memory, 
When  he  is  earth'd,)  hath  here  almost  persuaded 
(For  he's  a  spirit  of  persuasion,  only 
Professes  to  persuade)  the  King  his  son's  ahve  ; 
'Tis  as  impossible  that  he's  uudrowu'd, 
As  he,  that  sleeps  here,  swims. 

g^b.  I  have  no  hope 

That  he's  undrown'd. 

Ant.  O  !  out  of  that  no  hope, 

What  great  hope  have  you  !  no  hope,  that  way,  is 

*■>  As  to  this  expression  "  out  of  "  we  quote  Bacon  thus  :  "  This 
f  speak  not  out  of  ostentation,  but  out  of  gladness,  when  I  have 
done  my  duty."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  208.)  _ 

^  2  Bacon's  views  concerning  Cupid  and  Nox,  or  desire  and  night, 
have  already  passed  under  review.  And  so  the  w^ord  "  wink"_  as 
used  in  the  plays  often  indicates,  we  think,  a  short  night  of  desire. 
Bacon  says  :  "It  is  strange  how  men,  like  owls,  see  sharply  in  the 
darkness  of  their  own  notions,  but  in  the  daylight  of  experience 
wink  and  are  blind."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  231.)  And  in  Henry 
v..  Act  v.,  sc.  2,  p.  586.  we  have  : 

"  King.    Yet  they  do  wink,  and  yield  ;    as   love  is  blind,    and 
enforces. ' ' 


330  THE   TEMPEST. 

Another  way  so  high  a  hope,  that  even 

Ambition  cannot  pierce  a  wink  beyond, 

But  doubts  discovery  there.     Will  you  grant,  with  me, 

That  Ferdinand  is  drown 'd  ? ' 

Seb.  He's  gone. 

Ant.  Then  tell  me 

Who's  the  next  heir  of  Naples  ? 

Seb.  Claribel. 

Ant.  She  that  is  queen  of  Tunis  ;  she  that  dwells 
Ten  leagues  beyond  man's  life  ;  she  that  from  Naples 
Can  have  no  note,  unless  the  sun  were  post,* 
(The  man  i'  the  moon's  too  slow,^)  till  new-born  chins 
Be  rough  and  razorable  :  she,  from  whom 
We  all  were  sea  swallow'd,  though  some  cast  again  ; 
And,  by  that  destiny,  to  perform  an  act, 
Whereof  what's  past  is  prologue  ;  what  to  come. 
In  yours  and  my  discharge. 

Seb.  What  stuff  is  this  !— How  say  you  ? 

'Tis  true  my  brother  s  daughter's  queen  of  Tunis  ; 
So  is  she  heir  of  Naples  ;  'twixt  which  regions 
There  is  some  space. 

Ant.  A  space  whose  every  cubit 

Seems  to  cry  out,  '  How  shall  that  Claribel 
Measure  us  back  to  Naples  ?  '—Keep  in  Tunis, 
And  let  Sebastian  waKe  ! — Say,  this  were  death 
That  now  hath  seiz'd  them  ;  why  they  were  no  worse 
Than  now  they  are  :  There  be,^  that  can  rule  Naples 
As  well  as  he  that  sleeps  ;  lords,  that  can  prate 
As  amply,  and  unnecessarily. 
As  this  Gonzalo  ;  I  myself  could  make 
A  chough  of  as  deep  chat.     O,  that  you  bore 
Tlie  mind  that  I  do  !  what  a  sleep  were  this 
For  your  advancement  !     Do  you  understand  me  ? 

Seb.  Methinks,  I  do. 

Ant.  And  how  does  your  content 

Tender  your  own  good  fortune  ? 

Seb.  I  remember, 

You  did  supplant  your  brother  Prospero.^ 

'We  understand  the  word  "  drowned,"  as  here  used,  to  mean, 
lost  to  the  Catholic  cause. 

■^  "  In  process  of  time  there  came  a  post  to  the  town  again,  and  his 
business  was  with  Mr.  Ready-to-halt."  (The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p. 
406.) 

^  Is  this  an  allusion  to  Bacon  himself  ? 

*  Bacon  says  :  "  Yet  there  be  some  that  think  their  wits  have  been 
asleep,  except  they  dart  out  somewhat  that  is  piquant,  and  to  the 
quick." 

^  Sebastian  here  gives  Antonio,  or  Buckingham,  to  understand 
that  he  does  not  purpose  to  rely  upon  his  pretensions,  and  points 
him  to  his  already  treacherous  dealings  with  Prospero,  or  Bacon. 
As  to  Buckingluim's  intentions  to  be  rid  of  the  king,  see  our  quota- 
tion from  Weldou's  Court  and  Character  of  King  James,  p.  814. 


THE   TEMPEST.  331 

Ant.  *True  : 

And  look  how  well  my  garments  sit  upon  me  ; 
Much  feater  than  before  :  My  brother's  servants 
Were  then  my  fellows,  now  they  are  my  men. 

Seb.  But,  for  your  conscience — 

Ant.  Ay,  sir  ;  where  lies  that  ?  if  it  were  a  kybe 
'Twould  put  me  to  mj^  slipper  ;'  but  I  feel  not 
This  deity  in  my  bosom  :  twenty  consciences, 
That  stand  'twixt  me  and  JNIiian,  candied  be  they, 
And  melt,  ere  they  molest  !     Here  lies  your  brother, 
No  better  than  the  earth  he  lies  upon, 
If  he  were  that  which  now  he's  like,  that's  dead  ; 
Whom  I,  with  this  obedient  steel,  three  inches  of  it, 
Can  lay  to  bed  forever  :  whiles  you,  doing  thus, 
To  the  perpetual  wink  for  aye  might  put 
This  ancient  morsel,  this  sir  Prudence,  who 
Should  not  upbraid  our  course.     For  all  the  rest. 
They'll  take  suggestion,  as  a  cat  laps  milk  ; 
They'll  tell  the  clock'^  to  any  business  that 
We  say  befits  the  hour. 

Seb.  Thy  case,  dear  friend,' 

Shall  be  my  precedent  :  as  thou  got'st  Milan, 
I'll  come  by  Naples.     Draw  thy  sword  :  one  stroke 
Shall  free  thee  from  the  tribute  which  thou  pay'sL  ; 
And  I  the  king  shall  love  thee. 

Ant.  Draw  together 

And  when  I  rear  my  hand,  do  you  the  like, 
To  fall  it  on  Gonzalo. " 

Were  there  designs  by  Buckingham  upon  the  life  of  King 
James  ?     See  statement  at  p.  314. 

Ariel  averts  the  murder  by  waking  Gonzalo,  p.  55,  thus  : 

"  Ari.  My  master  through  his  art  foresees  the  danger 
That  you,  his  friend,  are  in  ;  and  sends  me  forth, 
(For  else  his  project  dies,)  to  keep  thee  living. 

\ Sings  in  Gonzalo' s  ear. 
While  you  here  do  snoring  lie, 
Open-ey'd  conspiracy 

His  time  doth  take  : 
If  of  life  you  keep  a  care. 
Shake  off  slumber,  and  beware  : 
Awake  !  awake  !" 

Having  failed  by  the  sword,  poison  is  next  resorted  to. 
This  is,  by  strange  shapes,  spread  in  the  form  of  a  banquet. 
And  so  in  sc.  3,  Act  iii.,  pp.  72-77,  we  have  : 

'  Promus,  712.  {Jupiter's  slipper.  A  man  esteemed  only  for 
nearness  to  some  great  personage. — Eras.  Ad.,  5,  558.) 

^  To  this  use  of  the  word  "  clock"  by  Bacon,  we  have  already 
called  attention  in  connection  with  one  of  the  sonnets. 


332  THE   TEMPEST. 

"  Alo7i.  Whnt  harmony  is  this  ?  my  good  friends,  hark  ! 

Gon.  Marvellous  sweet  music  ! 

Aloii.  Give  us  kind  keepers,  heavens  !     What  were  these  ? 

Seb.  A  living  drollery  :  Now  I  will  believe 
That  there  are  unicorns  ;  that  in  Arabia 
There  is  one  tree,  the  phoenix'  throne  ;  one  phoenix 
At  this  hour  reigning  there.' 

Ant.  I'll  believe  both  ; 

And  what  does  else  want  credit,  come  to  me, 
And  I'll  be  sworn  'tis  true  :  Travellers  ne'er  did  lie, 
Though  fools  at  home  condemn  them.^ 

Gon.  If  in  Naples 

I  should  report  this  now,  would  they  believe  me  ? 
If  I  should  say  I  saw  such  islanders, 
(For  certes,  these  are  people  of  the  island,) 
Who,  though  they  are  of  monstrous  shape,  yet  note, 
Their  manners  are  more  gentle,  kind,  than  of 
Our  human  generation  you  shall  find 
Many,  nay,  almost  any. 

Pro.  [Aside.l     Honest  lord, 

Thou  hast  said  well  ;  for  some  of  you  there  present 
Are  worse  than  devils. 

'  Read  in  this  connection  Bacon's  interpretation  of  the  fable  en- 
titled "  Sphinx,  or  Science."  In  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  371,  it  is 
turned  into  verse  thus  : 

"  Sphinx  was  a  monster,  that  would  eat 

Whatever  stranger  she  could  get  ; 

Unless  his  ready  wit  disclosed 

The  subtle  riddle  she  proposed. 

ffidipus  was  resolved  to  go. 

And  try  what  strength  of  parts  could  do  ; 

Says  Sphinx,  on  this  depends  your  fate  ; 

Tell  me  what  animal  is  that, 

Which  has  four  feet  at  morning  bright  ? 

Has  two  at  noon,  and  three  at  night  ? 

'Tis  man,  said  he,  who,  weak  by  nature. 

At  first  creeps,  like  his  fellow-creature. 

Upon  all  four  :  as  years  accrue, 

With  sturdy  steps  he  walks  on  two  : 

In  age,  at  length,  grows  weak  and  sick. 

For  his  third  leg  adopts  a  stick. 

Now  in  your  turn,  'tis  just  methinks, 

You  should  resolve  me,  Madame  Sphinx, 

What  strange  creature  yet  is  he. 

Who  has  four  legs,  then  two,  then  three  ; 

Then  loses  one,  then  gets  two  more, 

And  runs  away  at  last  on  four  ?" 
Let  the  reader  peruse  the  most  subtle  article  in  which  this  riddle 
occurs. 

^  There  is  here  a  subtle  allusion,  we  think,  to  Buckingham's  repor 
upon  his  return  with  the  Prince  from  Spain. 


THE   TEMPEST."  33;3 

Alon.  I  cannot  too  much  muse. 

Such  shapes,  such  gestures,  and  such  sound,  expressing 
(Although  tliey  want  the  use  of  tongue)  a  kind 
Of  excellent  dumb  discourse. 

Pro.  [Aside.]     Praise  in  departing, 

Fran.  They  vanish'd  strangely. 

Seb.  No  matter,  since 

They  have  left  their  viands  behind  ;  for  we  have  stomachs. — 
Wili't  please  you  taste  of  what  is  here  ? 

Alon.  Not  I.» 

Gon.  Faith,  sir,  you  need  not  fear.  —When  we  were  boys, 
Who  would  believe  that  there  were  mountaineers 
Dew-lapp'd  like  bulls,  whose  throats  had  hanging  at  them 
Wallets  of  flesh  ?  or  that  there  were  such  men. 
Whose  heads  stood  in  their  breasts  ?  which  now  we  find, 
Each  putter-out  on  five  for  one  will  bring  us 
Good  warrant  of. 

Alo/i.  I  will  stand  to  and  feed,* 

Although  my  last  :  no  matter,  since  I  feel 
The  best  is  past. — Brother,  my  lord  the  duke, 
Stand  to,  and  do  as  we." 

At  this  instant  Ariel  enters  and  causes  the  banquet  to 
vanish  and  then  says  : 

"  A)'i.  You  are  three  men  of  sin,  whom  destiny 
(That  hath  to  instrument  this  lower  world, 
And  what  is  in't)  the  never-surfeited  sea 
Hath  caused  to  belch  up,  and  on  this  island 
Where  man  doth  not  inhabit ;  you  'monsst  men 
Being  most  unfit  to  live.     I  have  made  you  mad  ; 

[Seeing  Alon.,  Seb.,  etc.,  draw  tlteir  sioords. 
And  even  with  such  like  valour,  men  hang  and  drown 

'  Note  the  expression  "  Not  I,"  and  the  distinctive  expression, 
"  No,  not  I,"  found  not  only  in  the  plays,  but  throughout  the  narra- 
lional  portions  of  the  Defoe  literature,  and  in  Tlie  iPilgrim's  Prog- 
re.ss.  This  expression,  "  No,  not  I,"  will  be  found  in  The  Pilgrim's 
Progress  at  pp.  65,  77,  216  ;  and  on  145  we  have  : 

"  Chr.  You  say  true  ;  but  did  you  meet  with  nobody  else  in  that 
valley  ? 

Faith.  No,  not  I  ;  for  I  had  sunshine  all  of  the  rest  of  the  way 
through  that,  and  also  through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death." 
In  Hamlet,  Act  iii.,  sc.  1,  p.  277,  we  have  : 

"  Oph.  My  Lord,  I  have  remembrances  of  yours. 
That  I  have  longed  long  to  re-deliver  ; 
I  pray  you,  now  receive  them. 

Ham.  No,  not  I  ; 

I  never  gave  you  aught." 

When  Bacon  made  notes  to  the  king  they  were  called  "  Remem- 
brances for  the  King."     See  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  139. 

'^  We  here  again  have  Bacon's  distinctive  use  of  the  word  "  feed." 
Sec  p.  274. 


334  THE   TEMPEST. 

Their  proper  selves.     You  fools  !  I  and  my  fellows 

Are  ministers  of  fate  :  the  Elements, 

Of  whom  your  swords  are  temper'd,  may  as  well 

"Wound  the  loud  winds,  or  with  bemock'd-at  stabs 

Kill  the  still-closing  waters,  as  diminish 

One  dowle  that's  in  my  plume  :  my  fellow-ministers 

Are  like  invulnerable  :  If  you  could  hurt, 

Your  swords  are  now  too  massy  for  your  strengths, 

And  will  not  be  uplifted.'    But,  remember, 

(For  that's  my  business  to  you,)  that  you  three 

From  Milan  did  supplant  good  Prospero  ; 

Expos'd  unto  the  sea,  which  hath  requit  it. 

Him,  and  his  innocent  child  :  for  which  foul  deed 

The  powers,  delaying,  not  forgetting,  have 

Incens'd  the  seas  and  shores,  yea  all  the  creatures. 

Against  your  peace  :  Thee,  of  thy  son,  Alonzo, 

They  have  bereft  ;  and  do  pronounce  by  me, 

Lingering  perdition  (worse  than  any  death 

Can  be  at  once^  shall  step  by  step  attend 

You,  and  your  ways  f  whose  wraths  to  guard  you  from, 

(Which  here,  in  this  most  desolate  isle,  else  fall 

Upon  your  heads,)  is  nothing,  but  heart's  sorrow. 

And  a  clear  life  ensuing." 

Upon  the  breach  of  the  Spanish  alliance  Bacon  had  at 
once  purposed  an  interview  with  the  Prince,  as  will  appear 
by  his  letter,  quoted  at  p.  314.  And  so  in  the  next  speech 
Prospero,  among  other  things,  says  : 

"  My  high  charms  work. 
And  these,  mine  enemies,  are  all  knit  up 
In  their  distractions  :  they  now  are  in  my  power  ; 
And  in  these  fits  I  leave  them,  whilst  I  visit 
Young  Ferdinand  (whotn  they  suppose  is  drown'd,) 
And  his  and  my  lov'd  darhng."  ^ 

Act  iv.  opens  on  the  next  page,  p.  78,  with  Prospero 's 
interview  with  the  Prince,  or  Ferdinand,  concerning 
Miranda,  thus  : 

"  Pro.  If  I  have  too  austerely  punish 'd  you, 
Your  compensation  makes  amends  ;  for  I 

'  Promus,  783.  (To  fight  with  shadows.)  The  alliance  with  Spain 
had  now  been  broken,  and  new  forces  were  setting  in. 

^  This  was  in  fact  true.  For,  as  we  have  already  seen,  out  of  the 
confusion  which  grew  upon  the  breach  of  the  Spanish  alliance,  the 
Prince  and  Buckingham  took  up  an  independent  position  as  against 
the  king,  and  he  was  ever  after  afraid  of  them.  They  were  now 
with  the  populace. 

^  Bacon  now  hoped  anew  to  interest  the  Prince  in  his  philosophy, 
and  presented  him  with  its  first  book,  the  De  Augmentis,  and  con- 
gratulated him  upon  his  return  as  a  sound  Protestant. 


IHE   TEMPEST.  335 

Have  given  you  here  a  thread  of  mine  own  life 

Or  that  for  which  I  live  ;  whom  once  again 

I  tender  to  thy  hand  :'  all  thy  vexations 

Were  but  my  trials  of  thy  love,  and  thou 

Hast  strangely  stood  the  test  :^  here,  afore  Heaven, 

I  ratify  this  my  rio.h  gift.     O  Ferdinand  I 

Do  not  smile  at  me,  that  I  boast  her  off, 

For  thou  shall  find  she  will  outstrip  all  praise. 

And  make  it  halt  behind  her. 

Fer.  I  do  believe  it. 

Against  an  oracle. 

Pro.  Then,  as  my  gift,  and  thine  own  acquisitiou 
Worthily  purchas'd,  take  my  daughter  ;  But 
If  thou  dost  break  her  virgin  knot  before 
All  sanctimonious  ceremonies  may 
With  full  and  holy  rite  be  minister'd. 
No  sweet  aspersion  shall  the  heavens  let  fall 
To  make  this  contract  grow  ;  but  barren  hate, 
Sour-ey'd  disdain,  and  discord,  shall  bestrew 
The  union  of  your  bed  with  weeds  so  loathly, 
That  you  shall  hate  it  both  :  therefore,  take  heed, 
As  Hymen's  lamps  shall  light  you. 

Fer.  As  I  hope 

For  quiet  days,  fair  issue,  and  long  life, 
With  such  love  as  'tis  now  ;  the  murkiest  den, 
Tlie  most  opportune  place,  the  strongest  suggestion 
Our  worser  Genius  can,  shall  never  melt 
Mine  honour  into  lust  ;  to  take  away 
The  edge  of  that  day's  celebration. 
When  1  shall  think,  or  Phcebus'  steeds  are  founder'd, 
Or  night  kept  chain'd  below." 

But  a  little  further  on  Prospero  lias  occasion  to  caution 
him,  and  says  : 

"  Pro.  Look,  thou  be  true  :  do  not  give  dalliance' 
Too  much  the  reign  ;  the  strongest  oaths  are  straw 
To  the  fire  i'  the  blood  :  Be  more  abstemious, 
Or  else,  good  night  your  vow  !" 

Backingham  strove  artfully  to  keep  the  Prince  away 
from  Bacon's  influence. 

'  This  identical  expression,  "  thread  of  my  life,"  may  be  found  in 
Bacon's  letter  to  Queen  Elizabeth  in  1599.  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  ii., 
p.  165  )  And  in  Addison,  vol.  ii.,  p.  346,  wc  have  :  "  He  sees  at 
one  view  the  whole  thread  of  my  existence  ;  not  only  that  part  of  it 
which  I  have  already  passed  through,  but  that  which  runs  forward 
into  all  the  depths  of  eternity." 

^  These  trials  came  before  the  breach  of  the  Spanish  alliance.  See 
last  half  of  sc.  3,  Act  i.,  and  sc.  1,  Act  iii. 

^  This  word  "  dalliance"  is  a  Baconian  word,  and  we  shall  later 
give  a  quotation  from  him  in  which  it  occurs. 


3)3 G  THE    TEMPEST. 

Alrcacly  have  we  alluded  to  the  fact  that  the  speeches 
of  the  nymphs,  in  this  first  section  of  Act  iv.  (see  Juno's 
song),  shadow  forth  in  part  what  Bacon  claimed  would 
result  from  wedding  Miranda  to  power.  But  the  blow 
upon  Bacon  or  Prospero,  and  so  upon  Miranda,  may  be 
noted  in  the  second  of  the  following  speeches  by  Ceres. 

"  Cer.  Hail,  many-colour'd  messenger,  that  ne'er 
Dost  disobey  the  wife  of  Jupiter  ; 
Who  with  thy  saffron'  wings  upon  my  flowers 
Diffusest  honey -drops,  refreshing  showers  ; 
And  with  each  end  of  thy  bU;e  bow  dost  crown 
My  bosky  acres,  and  my  unslirubb'd  down, 
Rich  scarf  to  my  proud  earth  ; — why  hath  tljy  cpieen 
Bummon'd  me  lather,  to  this  short-grass'd  green  ? 

IH>i.  A  contract  of  true  love  to  celebrate  ; 
And  some  donation  freely  to  estate  j 
Un  the  bless 'd  lovers. 

Cer.  Tell  me,  heavenly  bow. 

If  Venus,  or  her  son,  as  thou  dost  know. 
Do  now  attend   the  queen  ?  since  they  did  plot 
The  means,  that  dusky  Dis  my  daughter  got. 
Her  and  her  blind  boy's  scandl'd  company 
I  have  foresworn." 

See  in  this  connection  Bacon's  interjiretation  of  the 
fable  entitled  not  Prospero,  but  "  Prosperina,  or  Spirit," 
and  wherein  we  find  the  following  important  words 
of  this  play— viz.,  "Ceres,"  "Dis,"  "Juno,"  "bed- 
fellow," "  badge  ;"  as  "  Mark  but  the  badges  of  these 
men  my  lords,"  and  "  Misery  acquaints  us  with  strange 
Tbcd-fellows."     (Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  310.)     See  p.  01. 

Prospero  or  Prosperina  is  in  this  fable  represented  as 
the  daughter  of  Ceres.  Bacon  in  several  places  in  his 
writings  speaks  of  himself  as  a  virgin."     See  pp.  47,  223 

'  Please  see  p.  59  as  to  the  use  of  this  word  saffron  by  Bacon.  In 
The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  404,  we  have  :  "  Here  also  grew  cam- 
phire,  with  spikenard  and  saffron,  calamus  and  cinnamon,  with  all 
the  trees  of  frankincense,  myrrh,  and  aloes,  and  with  chief  spices." 

"^  In  Book  1  of  the  De  Augmentis  Bacon  says  :  "  Inventors,  and 
authors  of  new  arts  or  discoveries  for  the  service  of  human  life, 
were  ever  advanced  amongst  the  gods,  as  in  the  case  of  Ceres, 
Bacchus,  Mercury,  Apollo,  and  others."  As  to  "  Ceres"  we,  from 
Addison,  vol.  i.,  p.  472,  quote  as  follows:  "Thus  Ceres,  the  most 
beneficent  and  useful  of  the  heathen  divinities,  has  more  statues  than 
any  other  of  the  gods  or  goddesses,  as  several  of  the  Koman  em- 
perors took  a  pleasure  to  be  repiesented  in  her  dress. "  This  first 
volume  of  Addison  is  replete  with  the  Baconian  mythology  ;  in 
other  words,  with  his  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients. 


THE  TEMPEST.  337 

and   290.     Other  rektions  with  this  fable  exist/,  but,  as 
stated,  we  are  but  giving  outline  features  of  the  play. 
In  sc.  1,  Act  v.,  p.  93,  we  have  : 

"  But  this  roTigli  magic 
I  here  abjure  :  and,  when  I  have  requir'd 
Some  heavenly  music  (wliicli  even  now  I  do,) 
To  woik  mine  end  upon  tlieir  senses,  that 
Tliis  airy  charm  is  for,  I'll  break  my  stalT, 
Bury  it  certain  fathoms  in  the  earth, 
And,  deeper  than  did  ever  plummet  sound 
I'll  drown  my  book." 

Concerning  the  book,  he,  at  the  end  of  sc.  1,  Act  iii., 
says  : 

"I'll  to  my  book  ; 
For  yet,  ere  supper'  time,  nuist  I  perform 
Much  business  appertaining." 

But,  again,  in    sc.    1,   Act  v.,  p.   98,    the    Trince  and 
Muanda  are  represented  as  engaged  in  a  game  of  chess, 
and  Miranda  would  that  the  aim  of  the  Prince  in  the  game 
shoitld  be  "  a  score  of  kingdoms."     She  says  : 
"  Mira.  Sweet  lord,  you  play  me  false. 

T      ^i'!'      .  r      .,  , ,  No,  my  dearest  love, 

I  w^ould  not  for  the  world. 

Mira.  Yes,  for  a  score  of  kingdoms  you  should  wrangle 
And  I  would  call  it  fair  play."  ' 

And  on  the  next  page  Gonzalo  says  : 

"  Gon.  Was  Milan  thrust  from  Milan,  that  his  issue 
Should  become  kings  of  Naples  ?     O  !  rejoice 
Beyond  a  common  joy  :  and  set  it  down 
With  gold  on  lasting  pillars  :  In  one  voyage 
Did  Claribel  her  husband  find  at  Tunis  ; 
And  Ferdinand,  her  brother,  found  a  wife 
Where  he  himself  was  lost  ;  Prospero  his  dukedom 
In  a  poor  isle  ;  and  all  of  us  ourselves,  ' 

When  no  man  was  his  own."  ^ 

'  Here,  as  in  the  play  of  Hamlet,  the  word  "supper"  probably 
means  not  where  he  eats,  but  where  he  is  eaten. 

2  This  speech  deserves  some  little  study.  It  should  be'called  in(o 
relations  with  events  already  recounted.  It  is  a  little  singular  it  is 
true,  that  Bacon  should  have  put  this  speech  into  Gonzalo's  mouth' 
he  representing  Gondomar,  who  was  so  interested  in  Spain  and  its 
religion.  But  it  must  be  remembered  that  Bacon  was  now  trying  to 
interest  all  Christian  powers,  of  whatever  persuasion  through  a 
war  against  Uie  Turks,  to  a  new  deal,  so  to  speak,  in  christendoni 
bee  p.  ^.,0.  Tins  aim  will  be  most  dearly  seen  in  the  Serious  Reflec- 
tions ot  Crusoe,  and  in  which  aim  he  souglit  to  interest  or  enlist  pos- 


338  THE   TEMPEST. 

Jn  earlier  pages  we  liave  seen  that  Bacon  sought  to  make 
Britain  in  reality  what  the  Spanish  monarchy  had  been 
in  mere  name,  and  in  the  doing  of  this  his  philosophy  was 
to  light  the  way  and  to  open  that  "  brave  new  world" 
spoken  of  by  Miranda.  At  about  this  time  he  was  engaged 
in  his  fragment  of  the  Holy  War  against  the  Turks — note 
that  in  all  of  these  writings  the  same  views  are  entertained 
as  to  the  Turks— and  was  laboring  diligently  to  stay  the 
then  tendencies  toward  paganism,  as  well  as  toward  Rome, 
by  uniting  the  Catholics  and  all  Christian  powers  against 
paganism,  with  the  view  of  wiping  it  from  existence.  And 
this  point,  as  we  have  seen,  Bacon  asked  the  king  to  have 
incorporated  into  the  marriage  treaty  of  Prince  Charles 
with  the  Infanta.  Digby  went  as  an  ambassador  to  Spain 
partly  to  conduct  the  marriage  treaty,  and  partly  to  effect 
some  arrangement  to  suppress  the  pirates  of  Algiers  and 
Tunis,  now  so  troublesome  to  English  vessels.  See  Tunis 
in  the  play,  and  of  which  Claribel  is  represented  as  queen. 
Its  history  begins  with  the  Phoenician  colonies.  It  was 
the  most  important  part  of  the  province  of  Africa.  And 
in  the  early  history  of  Latin  Christianity,  Africa  holds  a 
place  even  more  important  than  Italy.  It,  in  fact,  took 
origin  in  Africa.'  Let  the  early  relations  between  Tunis 
and  Naples  be  investigated,  as  well  as  relations  touching 
Milan. ^  Did  not  Bacon's  intention,  alluded  to  in  his 
mentioned  prayer,  lie  in  the  directions  indicated  ? 

But  if  the  reader  would  correctly  interpret  this  great 
work,  he  must  carefully  possess  himself  of  the  thought 

terity.  Much  of  the  Defoe  literature,  and  particularly  the  History  of 
the  Devil,  has  this  aim  in  view,  and  where  will  be  found  many  phases 
of  the  Holy  War,  as  embodied  not  only  in  Bacon's  fragment,  but  in 
the  Bunyan  work.  Concerning  Diabolus,  the  character  personating 
the  Devil  in  the  Bunyan  worli,  we  from  the  "  History  of  the  Devil," 
p.  288,  quote  as  follows  :  "  It  is  said  also,  and  I  am  apt  to  believe  it, 
that  he  [the  Devil]  was  veiy  familiar  with  that  holy  fatlier,  Pope 
Sylvester  II.,  and  some  charge  him  with  personating  Pope  Hilde- 
brand  the  infamous,  on  an  extraordinary  occasion,  and  himself  sitting 
in  the  chair  apostolic,  in  a  full  congregation  ;  and  you  may  hear 
more  of  this  hereafter  ;  but  as  I  do  not  meet  with  Pope  Diabolus 
among  the  list,  in  all  father  Platina's  Lives  of  the  Popes,  so  I  am 
willing  to  leave  it  as  I  find  it." 

'  And,  as  we  have  seen  in  the  play,  the  king  is  censured  for  having 
given  his  daughter  m  marriage  to  an  African. 

2  Observe  also  in  this  play,  in  the  Serious  Reflections  of  Robinson 
Crusoe,  in  the  Anatomy  of  Melanclioly,  and  in  other  portions  of  this 
litei'ature  the  mention  of  Queen  Dido. 


THE   TEMPEST.  339 

already  presented  that  James,  'or  the  King,  stands  in  a 
couplet,  a  double  relation,  on  the  one  hand  toward  Eng- 
land, and  on  the  other  toward  Spain,'  as  also  does  his  great 
screen,  Buckingham,  and  who  is  willing  to  sell  out  Milan, 
as  will  appear,  sc.  2,  Act  i.,  p.  35,  where  Prospero,  as 
to  Buckingham,  or  Antonio,  says  : 

"  Pro.  To  have  uo  screen  between  this  part  he  play'd 
And  him  he  play'd  it  for,  he  needs  will  be 
Absolute  Milan  :  Me,  poor  man  ! — my  library 
Was  dukedom  large  enough  :  of  temporal  royalties 
He  thinks  me  now  incapable  ;  confederates 
(So  dry  he  was  for  sway)  with  the  King  of  Naples, 
To  give  him  annual  tribute,  do  him  homage, 
Subject  his  coronet  to  his  crown,  and  bend 
The  dukedom,  yet  unbow'd  (alas,  poor  Milan  !) 
To  most  ignoble  stooping." 

Buckingham  at  first  confederates  with  the  King,  who, 
though  standing  in  his  relation  to  the  crown  of  England,  has 
still  become  so  absorbed  in  Naples,  or  Spain,  as  to  be  repre- 
sented as  its  king,  and  the  real  king  as  his  brotlier. 
Spain,  as  we  have  seen,  had  now  hopes  of  absorbing  Eng- 
land  to  its  purposes.  It  was  this  intimacy  with  Spain 
that  caused  Gonzalo  in  the  wrecking  scene  to  say  : 

"  Oon.  The  King  and  prince  at  prayers  !  let  us  assist  them, 
For  our  cause  is  as  theirs." 

Prospero's  speech  prior  to  that  last  given  is  as  follows  : 

' '  Pro.  I  pray  thee,  mark  me. 

I  thus  neglecting  worldly  ends,  all  dedicated 
To  closeness,  and  the  bettering  of  my  mind 
With  that,  which,  but  by  being  so  retir'd, 
O'er-priz'd  all  popular  rate,  in  my  false  brother 
Awak'd  an  evil  nature  :  and  my  trust. 
Like  a  good  parent,'^  did  beget  of  him 


'  Promus,  1033.  ( Ye  sJiall  sing  in  alternate  terses.  Said  of  couplets 
made  by  two  rivals  alternately.)  See  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  iii., 
sc.  1.     And  note  the  word  "  goose,"  later  to  be  called  under  review. 

'  As  to  these  words,  "  Like  a  good  parent,"  we  quote  from  a  letter 
by  Bacon  to  the  king  in  1617  touching  Buckingham,  and  the 
already  mentioned  marriage  of  his  brother  to  Coke's  daughter,  thus  : 
"  Now,  for  the  manner  of  my  affection  to  my  Lord  of  Buckingliam, 
for  whom  I  would  spend  m}^  life,  and  that  which  is  to  me  more,  the 
cares  of  my  life  ;  I  must  humbly  confess,  that  it  was  in  this  a  little 
parent-like,  this  being  no  other  term,  than  his  lordship  hath  hereto- 
fore vouchsafed  to  my  counsels  ;  but  in  truth,  and  it  please  your 
majestj",  without  any  grain  of  diseslcem  for  his  lordship's  discre- 


340  THE   TEMPEST, 

A  falsehood,  in  its  contrary  as  great 

As  my  trust  was  ;  which  had,  indeed,  no  limit, 

A  confidence  sans  bound.     He  being  thus  lorded, 

Not  only  with  what  my  revenue  yielded, 

But  what  m.y  power  might  else  exact, — like  one. 

Who  having,  unto  truth,  by  telling  of  it, 

Made  such  a  sinner  of  his  memory. 

To  credit  his  own  lie, — he  did  believe 

He  was  indeed  the  duke  ;  out  o'  the  substitution. 

And  executing  the  outward  face  of  royalty, 

With  all  prerogative  : — Hence  his  ambition 

Growing, — Dost  thou  hear  ?" 

Keeping,  therefore,  the  two  courses  and  the  mentioned 
dual  relations  clearly  in  view,  and  allowing  for  poetic 
license,  this  hitherto  quite  inexplicable  play  will  yield  to 
the  mind  such  relations,  we  think,  as  must  bring  the  con- 
clusion that  Bacon,  and  not  Shakespeare  was  its  author  ; 
and  if  of  it,  so  of  all  the  plays. 

Hudson  says  :  "  The  Tempest  was  first  printed  in  the 
folio  of  1623,  in  which  edition  it  stands  the  first  of  the 
series.  As  this  play  was  undoubtedly  written  in  the  later 
years  of  the  poet's  life,  the  reason  of  its  standing  first  is 
not  apparent."  He,  however,  says  that  a  play  by  this 
name  was  performed  in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1613 
"  before  Prince  Charles,  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  and  the 
Prince  Palatine."  This  is  doubtless  true,  and  done  in 
honor  of  the  then  marriage  of  the  princess  to  the  Prince 
Palatine,  Bacon,  as  we  have  seen,  preparing  the  papers 
for  the  occasion,  as  already  stated,  and  doubtless  also  the 
mask  or  play  which  was  performed  in  honor  of  it.  From 
this  The  Tempest  in  its  present  form  was,  we  think,  a  re- 
construction or  rewriting  to  suit  it  to  new  relations  to  be 
portrayed.  Prince  Charles  being  substituted  for  Frederick 
the  Fiftli,  the  Prince  Palatine. 

In  this  way  masks  or  plays  were  doubtless  at  times  per- 
formed, without  permitting  them  to  go  into  print.  They 
could  thus  at  any  time  be  reproduced  as  a  new  work, 
should  occasion  require  or  a  desire  exist  to  reproduce  them 
in  greater  perfection.' 

tion.  For  I  know  him  to  be  naturally  a  man,  of  a  sound  and  staid 
wit,  as  I  ever  said  unto  your  majesty.  And,  again,  I  know  he  hath 
the  best  tutor  in  Europe.  But  yet  I  was  afraid  that  the  height  of 
his  fortune  might  make  him  too  secure  ;  and  as  the  proverb  is,  a 
looker-on  sometimes  seeth  more  than  a  gamester."  (Works,  vol.  ii., 
p.  519.) 

'  Hudson's  introduction  to  the  play  of  Much  Ado  About  Noth- 


THE   TEMPEST.  341 

But  the  strange  character  known  as  Caliban  in  this  play 
remains  yet  to  be  considered.  What,  in  natnre,  is  this 
character  intended  to  represent  ?    It  is  called  a  monster.' 

Prospero  acknowledges  the  character  as  his  own  prodnc- 
tion,  and  calls  it  a  thing  of  darkness,  a  demi-devil.  AYe 
understand  it  to  be  a  made-up  character  to  represent  cer- 
tain low  influences  at  work  to  supplant  him  and  his 
Miranda.  An  intention  to  be  rid  of  the  king,  already 
considered,  springs  from  ont  his  own  party — that  is, 
the  one  pursuing  the  first-mentioned  course.  From 
the  other  course,  the  rabble,  aided  by  this,  monster, 
springs  a  like  desire  to  be  rid  of  Prospero.  Those  in  the 
first  party  who  would  be  rid  of  the  king  we  understand  to 
be  the  monster  in  the  second  course.  This  was  chiefly 
urged  by  Antonio,  Sebastian  regarding  it  but  a  wild 
scheme.  In  this  background  sense  we  understand  Buck- 
ingham, as  the  tool  of  Spain  and  the  Catholic  cause,  to 
represent  the  thing  of  darkness,  the  demi-devil.  These 
influences  were,  we  think,  the  unseen  hand  in  the  catch 
_yet  to  be  considered.  Buckingham  greatly  feared  Bacon's 
influence  with  the  Prince,  and  so  ever  stood  in  the  way  of 
his  pardon,  as  a  careful  study  of  the  facts  will  show.  As 
originally  written,  we  think  the  monster  may  have  been 
designed  to  represent  paganism,  or  the  deformed  body  of 
the  times,  at  that  period.  From  Weldon's  Court  and 
Character  of  King  James,  p.  43,  we  quote  concerning 
Buckingham  as  follows  :  "  And  now  is  Purheck  mad,  and 

in^  opens  thus  :  "  The  earliest  notice  that  has  reached  us  of  Miicli 
Ado  About  Nothing  Is  an  etitry  in  the  books  of  the  Stationer's  Com- 
pany, bearing  date  August  4,  1600,  and  running  thus  : 

'  As  You  Like  It,  a  book,  1 

'  Henry  the  Fifth,  a  book.  i  ^^  ^^  stayed.' 

'  Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  a  book. 

'  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  a  book.  J 

Why  these  plays  were  thus  entered  and  the  publication  stayed,  can- 
not be  certainly  determined  ;  probably  it  was  to  protect  .the  author- 
ized publishers  and  the  public  against  those  '  stolen  and  surrepti- 
tious copies  '  which  the  editors  of  the  folio  allege  to  have  been  put 
forth." 

'  Note  that  Sycorax,  the  mother  of  Caliban,  is  represented  as  born 
at  Algiers.  (Sc.  2,  Act  i.,  p.  34.)  Algiers  was  under  the  control  of  the 
Turkish  pirates  from  1516  to  1830.  Spain,  France,  and  England 
had  alternately  tried  to  subdue  them,  England  sending  a  fleet  in 
1620,  under  the  command  of  Sir  Robert  Mausell,  but  which  returned 
without  effecting  anything. 


342  THE   TEMPEST. 

put  from  Court,  now  none  great  with  Buclcingliam,  but 
Bawds  aud  Parasites,  and  such  as  humoured  him,  in  his 
unchaste  2ileasures  ;  so  that  since  his  first  being  a  pretty, 
harmless,  affable  Gentleman,  he  grew  insolent,  cruel,  and 
a  monster  not  to  be  endured." 

And  on  the  next  page  it  is  stated  that  he  was  "  nothing 
but  a  pack  of  ignorance  sawthered  together  with  impru- 
dence to  raise  him  (besides  his  marriage  in  the  lusty 
kindred),"  Bacon,  as  we  have  seen,  gave  him  much  good 
counsel,  but,  as  stated  in  the  play,  p.  325,  it  was  "all,  all 
lost,"  and  Bacon  for  some  time  had  been  laboring  most  dili- 
gently, we  think,  to  bring  the  pinches  upon  him. 

It  must,  however,  be  distinctly  remembered  that  this  play 
was  written  or  completed  at  a  time  when  the  Spanish  alli- 
ance was  broken  off,  and  when  Bacon  supposed  himself 
again  above  the  influences  that  had  been  at  work  against 
him,  and  which  influences  he  had  already  in  turn  begun  to 
make  serve  him  and  his  Miranda.  See  Ariel's  speech  to 
the  three  men  of  sin,  and  whose  swords  are  represented  as 
already  powerless,  p.  333.  The  influences  combining  against 
Protestantism  had  been  broken.  And  so  Caliban  and  all 
he  is  intended  to  represent,  though  secretly  plotting 
against,  is  now  at  the  service  of  Prospero  and  Miranda, 
and  "  time  goes  upright  with  his  carriage." 

As  in  the  early  part  of  the  play  we  have  traced  the  two 
courses,  so  let  their  influence  be  noted  in  what  follows. 
In  sc.  2,  Act  iii.,  p.  71,  the  following  speeches  occur  be- 
tween Caliban  and  Stephano,  the  King's  drunken  butler, 
he  and  Trinculo  being  tools  of  the  rabble,  and  to  whom 
Caliban,  in  order  to  get  his  ends  served,  is  willing  to 
humble  himself,  and  who  finally  concedes  to  Stephano  the 
power  to  rule.     He  says  : 

"  Cal.  Thou  makest  me  merry  ;  I  am  full  of  pleasure. 
Let  us  be  jocund  :'   Will  you  troll  the  catch 
You  taught  me  but  while-ere  ? 

Ste.  At  thy  request,  monster,  I  will  do  reason,'^   any  reason  : 

1  This  word  "jocund"  may  be  found  throughout  these  writings. 
Bacon  says:  "With  arts  voluptuary  I  couple  practices  ^'oowiJrtrj'y 
for  the  deceiving  of  the  senses  is  one  of  the  pleasures  of  the  senses." 
(Phil.  Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  379.)  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  379, 
we  have  :  "  Now,  when  Feeblemind  and  Ready-to-halt  saw  that  it 
was  the  head  of  Giant  Despair  indeed,  they  were  very  jocund  aud 
merry." 

•^  Note  the  distinctive  and  unusual  expression  "  I  will  do  reason." 


THE   TEMPEST.  343 

Come  on,  Trinculo,  let  us  sing.  ^  [Sings. 

Flout  'em,  and  skout  'em  ;  and  skout  'em,  and  flout  'em  ; 
Thought  is  free."  ' 

This  we  take  to  have  been  the  feeling  of  the  rabble  tow- 
ard both  Bacon  and  the  king.     But  Caliban  says  : 

"  Cal.  That's  not  the  tune. 

[Ariel  plays  the  tune  on  a  tabor  and  pipe. 
Ste.  What's  this  same  ? 

Trin.  This  is  the  tune  of  our  catch,  play'd  by  the  picture  of 
Nobody." 

Stephano  does  not  appear  to  recognize  the  real  situation, 
but  Ariel  here  gives  him  thp  cue,  and  he  then  says  : 

"  Ste.  If  thou  beest  a  man,  show  thyself  in  thy  likeness  :  if  thou 
bcesl  a  devil,  take't  as  thou  list. 
Trin.  O,  forgive  mc  my  sins  !" 

This  picture  of  "  Nobody,"  this  unseen  hand  in  the 
catch,  though  not  the  occasion,  was  still,  we  Judge,  the 
subtle  background  cause  in  Bacon's  overthrow.''  In  sc. 
1,  Act  ii.,  p.  45,  Prospero  is  represented  as  not  knowing 
the  true  cause  of  his  troubles,  and  probably  Bacon  did 
not  at  the  first.  He  says  :  "I  thank  God  I  am  so  far 
from  thinking  to  retrieve  a  fortune,  as  I  did  not  mark 
Avhere  the  game  fell."  The  notes  from  which  this  quo- 
tation is  taken  were  in  Greek  characters,  and  concerned  the 
sequestration  of  his  estate,  and  were  made  preparatory  to 
an  interview  with  Cranfield  in  1622.  (Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  vii.,  p.  396.) 

AVhether  or  not  we  be  right  concerning  this  strange 
character  ,  we  may  at  least  be  permitted  to  ask  the  reader 
to  place  our  outline  by  the  side  of  what  he  shall  find  else- 
where written  concerning  it.' 

Bacon  says  :  "  Tlierefore  I  pray  your  Lordship  that  I  may  know  and 
be  informed  from  himself  what  passed  touching  his  consent,  and  I 
will  do  him  reason."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  292.)  lie  like- 
wise makes  use  of  that  strange  expression  "  discourse  of  reason,"  and 
in  Hamlet  we  have  : 

"  O  God  !  a  beast,  that  wants  discourse  of  reason, 
Would  have  mourn 'd  longer." 

'  Promus,  653.     Thought  is  free. 

»  He  had  said  biting  things  concerning  Spain,  Rome,  and  the 
Catholics,  and  their  opportunity  came,  and  was  made  easy  through 
the  envy  of  Coke  and  others. 

3  Bacon,  sitting  as  his  own  critic,  says  :  "  Milton's  characters,  most 


344  THE   TEMPEST. 

In  sc.  2,  Act  ii.,  p.  59,  Stephano  says  : 

"  Ste.  Four  legs  and  two  voices  !  a  most  delicate  monster.  His 
forward  voice  now  is  to  speak  well  of  his  friends  ;  his  backward  voice 
is  to  utter  foul  speeches,'  and  to  detract.  If  all  the  wine  in  my  bottle 
will  recover  him,  I  will  help  his  ague  :  Come, — Amen  !  I  will  pour 
some  in  thy  other  mouth." 

And  as  Caliban  is  represented  as  having  more  than  one 
voice,  so  is  ho  of  trying,  at  once,  to  go  different  ways, 
Stephano  saying  m  his  previous  speech  to  him,  "  Come  on 
your  ways." 

The  robbing  of  Prospero  we  have  noted  at  Ariel's  second 
entrance,  sc,  1,  Act  iv.,  p.  86.^  And  near  the  close  of 
the  play,  p.  101,  these  characters  in  their  stolen  apparel 
appear  before  Alonzo,  Sebastian,  Antonio,  and  Prospero, 
when  Stephano  says  : 

"  Ste.  Every  man  shifts  for  all  the  rest,  and  let  no  man  take  care 
for  himself  ;  for  all  is  but  fortune  : — Coragio,  bully-monster,  coragio  ! 
Trin.  If  these  be  true  spies  which  I  wear  in  my  head,  here's  a 
goodly  sight. 

Cal.  O  Setebos  !  these  be  brave^  spirits,  indeed, 
How  fine  my  master  is  !     I  am  afraid 
He  will  chastise  me. 


of  them,  lie  out  of  nature,  and  were  to  be  formed  purely  by  his  own 
invention.  It  shows  a  greater  genius  in  Shakespear  to  have  drawn 
his  Caliban  than  his  Hotspur  or  Julius  C*sar  :  the  one  was  to  be 
supplied  out  of  his  own  imagination,  whereas  the  other  might  have 
been  formed  upon  tradition,  historj^,  and  observation."  Note  the 
words  "  out  of."     (Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  186.) 

'Note  the  use  of  the  word  "speeches"  in  every  phase  of  this 
literature  and  in  exclusion  of  synonymous  words. 

"  Read  in  this  connection  chapter  10  of  Gulliver's  Travels  concern- 
ing the  struldrugs.  This  satire  is  designed  to  show  the  power  of 
avarice.  It  ends  thus  :  "  Otherwise,  as  avarice  is  the  necessary 
consequent  of  old  age,  those  immortals  would  in  time  become  pro- 
prietors of  the  w^hole  nation  and  engross  the  civil  power,  which,  for 
want  of  abilities  to  manage,  must  end  in  the  ruin  of  the  public." 

^  Let  the  word  "  brave"  as  used  by  Bacon  be  particularly  noted, 
and  so  let  it  be  noted  throughout.  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  80, 
we  have  :  "  May  I  get  out  again  with  my  life,  you  shall  possess  the 
brave  country  alone  for  me."  And  on  p.  284  we  have:  "When 
the  Interpreter  had  shown  them  this,  he  had  them  into  the  very 
best  room  in  the  house  ;  a  very  brave  room  it  w%as."  In  his  essay 
entitled  "  Of  Plantations,"  Bacon  says  :  "  If  there  be  iron  ore,  and 
streams  whereon  to  set  the  mills,  iron  is  a  brave  commodity  where 
wood  aboundclh." 


THK   TEMPEST. 


345 


Seb  H^'  ^1^  ' 

What  things  are  these,  my  lord  Antonio  ? 
Will  money  buy  them  ? 

^„^    ^  Very  like  :  one  ot  them 

Is  a  plain  fish,  and,  no  doubt,  marketable. 

Fro.  Mark  but  the  badges  of  these  men,  my  lords, 
Then  say  if  they  be  true  : — 
This  misshappen  knave, 
His  mother  was  a  witch  ;  and  one  so  strong 
That  could  control  the  moon,  make  flows  and  ebbs, 
And  deal  in  her  command,  without  her  power  :' 
Tiiese  three  have  robb'd  me  ;  and  this  demi  devil, 
(For  he  is  a  bastard  one,)  had  plotted  witli  them 
To  take  my  life  :  two  of  these  fellows  you 

Must  know,  and  own  ;  tliis  thing  of  darkness  I  acknowledge  mine. 
Cal.  I  shall  be  pinch'd  to  death. 
Alon.  Is  not  this  Stephano,  my  drunken  butler  I 
Seb    He  is  drunk  now  :  Where  had  he  wine  ? 
Alon.  And  Trinculo  is  reeling  ripe  :  Where  should  they 
Find  this  grand  liquor  that  hath  gilded  them  ? 
IIow  came  they  in  this  pickle  ?" 

Caliban  is  said  to  be  a  bastard  character— that  is,  not  a 
real  one,  as  he  was  hut  a  product  of  Bacon's  own  pon 
Under  it  was  couched  the  background  mfhiences  tliat  had 
heen   at   work   against  him.=      And  now,  with  the  prom- 
ised story  of  his  life,  the  delightful  story  of  Crusoe,  and 
which   time  shall  never  cut  from  memory,  does  Prospero 
bring  this  subtle  piece  of  work  to  a  close  in  these  words  : 
"  Pro.  Sir,  I  invite  your  highness,  and  your  train, 
To  my  poor  cell  :  where  you  shall  take  vour  rest 
For  tiiis  one  night  ;  which,  part  of  it,  I'll  waste  _ 
With  such  discourse,  as,  I  not  doubt,  shall  make  it 

'  Concerning  Buckingham's  mother  in  1623.  and  who  had  finan- 
cial interest  in  Bacon's 'affairs,  Mr.  Spedding  says  :  Towards  tlie 
end  of  September  the  countess  was  sent  away  from  the  court  in  con- 
sequence of  an  open  relapse  to  Popery,  and  confined  to  her  house  at 
Dalby  in  Leicestershire  ;  but  wliatever  communication  Bacon  had 
had  with  her  seems  to  have  been  of  some  use.  For  we  sha  1  shortly 
see  Buckingha»i  stirring  himself  with  more  effect  than  he  had  done 
of  late  :  and  the  next  letter  addressed  to  her  in  her  banishment 
acknowledges  Bacon's  sense  of  obligation  for  what  she  had  done. 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  392.)  Cranfield  was  hkewise  con- 
ceited. Please  see  pp.  888-403.  On  p.  406  we  find  Bacon  hun- 
selfto  say  that  he  had  gone  to  a  "  cell,"  meaning  to  Gra>  s  Inn. 
The  letters  that  a  man  writes  while  seeking  to  prevent  the  seques- 
tration of  his  estate  sliould  not  only  be  looked  at,  but  looked  under. 
«  Note  hero  the  concluding  epilogue  to  this  play. 


346  TEE   TEMPEST. 

Go  quick  away  :  the  story  of  my  life, 
And  the  particular  accidents  gone  by, 
Since  1  came  to  this  isle  :  And  in  the  morn 
I'll  bring  you  to  your  ship,  and  so  to  Naples, 
Where  I  have  hope  to  see  the  nuptial 
Of  these  our  dear-beloved  solemuiz'd  ; 
And  thence  retire  me  to  my  Milan,  where 
Every  third  thought  shall  be  my  grave." 


THE  STORY  OF  MY  LIFE. 


In  whafc  Sir  Francis  Bacon  did  for  the  race,  he  started 
at  home,  started  in  his  own  soul,  and  studied  it — its  emo- 
tions, its  motives,  its  passions,  as  well  as  its  objective 
activities  :  and  with  it,  and  with  all  the  impetus  which  lie 
could  gather  to  it,  from  both  research  and  imagination, 
did  he  paint  forth  every  phase  of  our  human  life.'  With 
his  views  one  age  is  but  a  type  of  all  ages,  and  one  soul 
but  a  type  of  the  souls  of  all.  For  these  reasons  we  find 
him  largely  thougli  covertly  self-centred  in  his  work.^ 
lie  was  the  radius  from  which  to  insinuate  all  knowledge. 
He  was  indeed  the  Great  Monk  that  retired  not  his 
thoughts,  nor  his  body,  but  who  hooded  his  personality 
from  portions  of  his  work,  leaving  them  thus  to  time.' 
And  in  the  beautiful  allegory  of  Crusoe  may  be  found  much 
concerning  his  life  aims.  But  as  space  will  not  permit 
us  to  trace  that  portion  of  the  work  most  in  harmony  with 
material  already  introduced,  and  the  story  also,  we  there- 
fore at  once  proceed  to  that  portion  of  the  work  founded 
upon  the  story,  and  known  as  the  "  Serious  Eeflections. " 
Its  first  chapter,  with  distinctive  views  upon  the  subject 
of  solitude,  opens  thus  : 

"  I  have  frequently  looked  back,  you  may  be  sure,  and 
that  with  different  thoughts,  upon  the  notions  of  a  long 
tedious  life  of  solitude,  which  I  have  represented  to  the 

'  "  He  doth  in  holy  abstinence  subdue 
That  in  himself  which  he  spurs  on  his  power  to  qualify  in  others." 

— M.  M.,  iv.,  2. 

^  Promus,  36.  (I  am  a  man.  Naught  that  is  man's  do  I  regard 
as  foreign  to  myself.) 

'Bacon  says:  "The  only  author  I  like  is  time."  (Phil.  Works, 
vol.  iv.,  p.  489.)  Promus,  449.  (Fulness  of  power  is  fulness  of  time 
or  season.)  Promus,  341.  So  give  authors  their  due  as  you  give  time 
his  due,  which  is  to  discover  truth. 


348  THE   STORY    OF    MY    LIFE. 

world,  and  of  which  you  must  have  formed  some  ideas  from 
the  life  of  a  man  in  an  island.  Sometimes  I  have  won- 
dered how  it  could  be  supported,  especially  for  the  first 
years,  when  the  change  was  violent  and  imposed,  and  nature 
unacquainted  with  anything  like  it.  Sometimes  I  have  as 
much  wondered  why  it  should  be  any  grievance  or  affliction, 
seeing  upon  the  whole  view  of  the  stage  of  life  which  we  act 
upon  in  this  world,  it  seems  to  me  that  life  in  general  is,  or 
ought  to  be,  but  one  universal  act  of  solitude  ;  but  I  find 
it  is  natural  to  judge  of  hajopiness  by  its  suiting  or  not 
suiting  our  own  inclinations.  Everything  revolves  in 
our  minds  by  innumerable  circular  motions,'  all  centring 
in  ourselves.  We  Judge  of  prosperity  and  of  affliction, 
joy  and  sorrow,  poverty,  riches,  and  all  the  various 
scenes  of  life — I  say,*  we  judge  of  them  by  ourselves. 
Thither  we  bring  them  home,  as  meats  touch  the  palate, 
by  which  we  try  them  ;  the  gay  part'  of  the  world,  or  the 
heavy  part  ;  it  is  all  one,*  they  call  it  pleasant  or  unpleas- 
ant, as  they  suit  our  taste.' 

"  The  world,  I  say,  is  nothing  to  us  but  as  it  is  more  or 
less  to  our  relish.     All  reflection  is  carried  home,*  and 

'  Bacon  likens  the  motions  of  mind  to  motions  in  the  heavens. 
As  to  circular  motion  he  says  :  "  For  circular  motion  is  intermi- 
nable, and  for  its  own  sake.  Motion  in  a  straight  line  is  to  an  end, 
and  for  the  sake  of  something,  and  as  it  were  to  obtain  rest." 
(Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  478.)     See  note  1,  p.  127. 

^  Bacon's  mode  of  throwing  in  the  expression  "  I  say"  is  very 
noticeable  in  all  these  writings. 

^  Carefully  observe  the  use  of  this  word  "  part"  throughout. 
When  once  Bacon  has  placed  a  word,  that  is  the  word  for  that  place. 
See  pp.  58  and  71,  and  note  3,  p.  34. 

"*  To  this  expression  we  have  later  called  attention.  It  w-as  common 
with  Bacon.  See  it  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  220.  And  in 
Henry  IV.,  part  1,  Act  iv.,  sc.  2,  p.  261,  we  have  : 

"  But  that's  all  one  ;  they'll  find  linen  enough  on  every  hedge." 

Promus,  196.  All  is  one.  Contrariorum  eadem  est  ratio  (of  con- 
traries the  account  to  be  given  is  the  same). 

^  Promus,  453.  (Naught  thrives  but  what  is  shameless — every 
one  cares  for  his  own  pleasure  alone.)  And  Bacon  says  :  "  See  you 
not  that  all  men  seek  themselves.  But  it  is  only  the  lover  that  finds 
himself."     (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  487.) 

''As  to  the  word  "home,"  Bacon,  in  a  letter  to  Sir  Thomas 
Bodley,  on  presenting  him  with  a  copy  of  the  Advancement  of 
Learning  in  1605,  says  :  "  For  I  do  confess  since  I  was  of  any  under- 
standing my  mind  hath  in  effect  been  absent,  from  that  I  have  done  ; 
and  in  abseuce  are  many  errors  which  I  do  willingly  acknowledge  ; 


THE    STORY    OF   MY    LIFE.  349 

our  dear  self  is,  in  one  respect,  the  end  of  living.  Hence 
man  may  be  properly  said  to  be  alone  in  the  midst  of  the 
crowds  and  hurry  of  men  of  business,  x4.ll  the  reflec- 
tions which  he  makes  are  to  himself  ;  all  that  is  pleasant 
he  embraces  for  himself  ;  all  that  is  irksome  and  grievous 
is  tasted  but  by  his  own  palate. 

"  What  are  the  sorrows  of  other  men  to  us,  and  what 
their  joys?  Something  we  may  be  touched  indeed  with 
by  the  power  of  sympathy,  and  a  secret  turn  of  the  affec- 
tions ;  but  all  the  solid  reflection  is  directed  to  ourselves. 
Our  meditations  are  all  solitude  in  perfection  ;  our  pas- 
sions are  all  exercised  in  retirement  ;  we  love,  we  hate, 
we  covet,  we  enjoy,  all  in  privacy  and  solitude.  All  that 
we  communicate  of  those  things  to  any  other,  is  but  for 
their  assistance  in  the  pursuit  of  our  desires  ;  the  end  is 
at  home  ;  the  enjoyment,  the  contemplation,  is  all  soli- 
tude and  retirement ;  it  is  for  ourselves  we  enjoy,  and  for 
ourselves  we  suffer. 

'•'  What,  then,  is  the  silence  of  life?'  And  how  is  it 
afllicting  while  a  man  has  the  voice  of  his  soul  to  speak  to 

and  amongst  the  rest  this  great  one  that  led  the  rest  ;  tliat  knowing 
myself  by  inward  calling  to  be  titter  to  hold  a  book  than  to  play  a 
part,  I  have  led  my  life  in  civil  causes  ;  for  which  I  was  not  very 
lit  by  nature,  and  more  unfit  by  the  preoccupation  of  my  mind. 
Therefore  calling  myself  home,  I  have  now  for  a  time  enjoyed 
myself  ;  whereof  likewise  I  desire  to  make  the  world  partaker." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iii.,  p.  253.)  Promus,  48.  He  xclio  is  mean  at 
home  is  mean  at  Saville  {abroad).  Promus,  722.  (To  make  conjec- 
tures at  home. — Eras.  Ad.,  335.)  In  his  Essay  entitled  "  Of  Dis- 
course," he  says :  "  Speech  of  touch  towards  others  should  be 
sparingly  used  :  for  discourse  ought  to  be  as  a  field,  without  coming 
home  to  any  man."     In  Othello,  Act  ii.,  sc.  1,  p.  452,  we  have  : 

"Cas.  He  speaks  home,  madam  :  you  may  relish  him  more  in  the 
soldier  than  in  the  scholar." 

We  have  many  references  of  this  character  in  the  plays,  as  also  of 
the  expression  "  it  is  all  one." 

'  Promus,  419.  (He  who  is  silent  is  strong.)  Bacon's  article  on 
"  The  Praise  of  Knowledge"  opens  thus  :  "  Silence  were  the  best 
celebration  of  that  vi-hich  I  mean  to  conm^nd  ;  for  who  would  not 
use  silence,  where  silence  is  not  made,  and  what  crier  can  make 
silence  in  such  a  noise  and  tumult  of  vain  and  popular  opinion.  My 
praise  shall  be  dedicated  to  the  mind  itself."  And  in  the  Merchant 
of  Venice,  Act  iii.,  sc.  5,  p.  93,  we  have  : 

"  Lor.  How  every  fool  can  play  upon  the  word  !  I  think  the  best 
grace  of  wit  will  shortly  turn  into  silence,  and  discourse  grow  com- 
mendable in  none  only  but  ]iarrots. " 

And  please  see  the  Addison  article  on  Silence,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  96-99. 


350  THE   STORY    OF    MY    LIFE. 

God  and  to  himself?  That  man  caii  never  want  conver- 
sation who  is  company  for  himself,  and  he  that  cannot 
converse  profitably  with  himself  is  not  fit  for  any  conver- 
sation at  all.  And  yet  there  are  many  good  reasons  why 
a  life  of  solitude,  as  solitude  is  now  understood  by  the 
age,  is  not  at  all  suited  to  the  life  of  Ji^  Christian  or  a  wise 
man.  AVithout  inquiring,  therefore,  into  the  advantages 
of  solitude,  and  how  it  is  to  be  managed,  I  desire  to  be 
heard  concerning  what  solitude  really  is  ;'  for  I  must  con- 
fess I  have  different  notions  about  it,  far  from  those  which 
are  generally  understood  in  the  world,  and 'far  from  all 
those  notions  upon  which  those  people  in  the  primitive 
times,  and  since  then  also,  acted  ;  who  separated  them- 
selves into  deserts  and  unjfrequented  places,  or  confined 
themselves  to  cells,  monasteries,  and  the  like,  retired,  as 
they  call  it,  from  the  world. ^  All  which,  I  think,  have 
nothing  of  the  thing  I  call  solitude  in  them,  nor  do  they 
answer  any  of  the  true  ends  of  solitude,  much  less  those 
ends  which  are  pretended  to  be  sought  after  by  those  who 
have  talked  most  of  those  retreats  from  the  world. 

"  As  for  confinement  in  an  island,  if  the  scene  was 
placed  there  for  this  very  end,  it  were  notat  all  amiss.' 
I  must  aciinowledge  there  was  confinement  from  the  en- 
joyments of  the  world,  and  restraint  from  human  society. 

*  In  his  Essay  entitled  "  Of  Friendship,"  Bacon  says  :  "  But  little 
do  men  perceive  what  solitude  is,  and  how  far  it  extendeth. "  See 
this  essay. 

*  Read  wliat  Bacon  says  as  to  the  contemplative  and  monastic  life. 
(Phil.  Works,  vol.  v..  pp.  8-11  and  pp.  251.  266,  277.)  In  the 
youthful  treatise  the  Anatomy  of  Abuses,  Philo,  or  Philoponubi,  is 
the  chief  character.  Let  the  Brit(Uinica  article  on  Philo  be  read, 
and  let  it  be  investigated  as  to  whether  any  and  what  relation  ex- 
ists between  these  two  characters.  It  seems  that  the  expression 
"  Good  morrow,"  found  in  Bacon's  Promus  Notes,  as  No.  1189,  is 
not  found  in  English  books  prior  to  the  issue  of  the  Anatomy  of 
Abuses,  which  opens  by  one  of  the  two  disputants  saying,  "  God 
give  you  good  morrow.  Master  Philoponus."  Promus,  1196.  I 
have  not  said  all  my  prayers  till  I  have  bid  j^ou  good  morrow." 
And  note  the  expression  throughout  the  plays.  Is  it  not  a  little 
singular  if  Bacon  be  not  author  of  the  plays,  that  so  many  of  his 
Promus  Notes  are  found  nowhere  in  his  attributed  w^ritings,  but 
are  spread  everywhere  in  the  plays  ? 

*  As  to  islands,  see  Bacon's  private  notes.  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iv., 
p.  77,  and  where  we  have  :  "  A  fayre  bridg  to  y'  JMiddle  great  Hand 
onely,  y«  rest  by  bote."  Do  not  fail  to  see  in  this  connection  the 
Addison  article  on  islands,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  499-504. 


THE   STORY    OF   MY    LIFE,  351 

But  all  that  was  not  solitude  ;  indeed  no  part  of  it  was  so, 
except  that  w])ich.  as  in  my  story,  I  api)licd  to  the  con- 
templation of  siTblinie  things/  and  that  was  but  a  very 
little,  as  my  readers  well  know,  compared  to  what  a  lengtli 
of  years  my  forced  retreat  lasted. 

"  It  is  evident  then,  that,  as  I  see  nothing  hut  what  is 
far  from  being  retired  in  the  forced  retreat  of  an  island, 
the  thoughts  being  in  no  composure  suitable  to  a  retired 
condiiion— no,  not  for  a  great  while  ;  so  I  can  affirm, 
that  I  enjoy  much  more  solitude  in  the  middle  of  the 
greatest  collection  of  mankind  in  the  world,  I  mean,  at 
London,  while  I  am  writing  this,  than  ever  I  could  say 
I  enjoyed  in  eight-and-twenty  years'  confinement  to  a 
desolate  island."  ^ 

On  page  8,  the  chapter  opening  on  p.  7,  we  have  : 

"  A  man  under  a  vow  of  perpetual  silence,  if  but  rigor- 
ously observed,  would  be,  even  on  the  Exchange  of  Lon- 
don, as  perfectly  retired  from  the  world  as  a  hermit  in  his 
cell,  or  a  solitaire  in  the  deserts  of  Arabia  ;  and  if  he  is  able 
to  observe  it  rigorously  may  reap  all  the  advantages  of  those 
solitudes  without  the  unjustifiable  part  of  such  a  life,  and 
without  the  austerities  of  a  life  among  brutes.  For  the 
soul  of  a  man,  under  a  due  and  regular  conduct,  is  as  capa- 
ble of  reserving  itself,  or  separating  itself  from  the  rest 
of  human  society,  in  the  midst  of  a  throng,  as  it  is  when 
banished  into  a  desolate  island. 

"  The  truth  is,  that  all  those  religious  hermit-like  soli- 
tudes, which  men  value  themselves  so  much  upon,  are  but 
an  acknowledgment  of  the  defect  or  imperfection  of  our 
resolutions,  our  incapacity  to  bind  ourselves  to  needful 
restraints,  or  rigorously  to  observe  the  limitations  we  have 
vowed  ourselves  to  observe.'  Or,  take  it  thus,  that  the 
man  first  resolving  that  it  would  be  his  felicity  to  be  en- 

'  By  an  adroit  use  of  silence  tliis  point,  tlie  sublime,  is  often  reached 
in  the  drama.  See  Addison  articles  upon  this  point,  and  particularly 
vol.  ii.,  pp.  96-99.  Bacon  says  :  "  Silence  gives  to  words  both 
grace  and  authority."  He  says  :  "  Silence  is  the  sleep  which  nour- 
islies  wisdom."  He  says  :  "  Silence  is  the  ferment  of  thought." 
He  says  :  "  Silence  is  the  style  of  wisdom."  He  says  :  "  Silence 
aspireth  after  truth."  He  says  :  "  Silence  is  a  kind  of  solitude." 
(Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  485.)    See  p.  298,  note  3. 

"^  Promus,  208.     (A  great  city  or  state  is  a  great  solitude.) 
^  These  limitations  Bacon  never  permitted  himself  to  violate.     See 
p.  298. 


353  THE    STORY  -OF    MT    LIFE. 

tirely  given  np  to  conversinor  only  with  heaven  and 
heavenly  things,  to  be  separated  to  prayer  and  good  works, 
but  being  sensible  how  ill  such  a  life  will  agree  with  flesh 
and  blood,  causes  his  soul  to  commit  a  rape  upon  his 
body,  and  to  carry  it  by  force,  as  it  were,,  into  a  desert,  or 
into  a  religious  retirement,  from  whence  it  cannot  return, 
and  where  it  is  impossible  for  it  to  have  any  converse  with 
mankind,  other  than  with  such  as  are  under  the  same 
vows  and  the  same  banishment.  The  folly  of  this  is 
evident  many  ways.' 

"  I  shall  bring  it  home  to  the  case  in  hand  thus  :  Chris- 
tians may,  without  doubt,  come  to  enjoy  all  the  desirable 
advantages  of  solitude,  by  a  strict  retirement  and  exact 
government  of  their  thoughts,  without  any  of  tliese  for- 
malities, rigors,  and  apparent  mortifications,  which  I  think 
I  justly  call  a  rape  upon  human  nature,  and  consequently 
without  the  breach  of  Christian  duties,  which  they  neces- 
sarily carry  with  them,  such  as  rejecting  Christian  com- 
munion, sacraments,  ordinances,  and  the  like. 

"  There  is  no  need  of  a  wilderness  to  wander  among 
wild  beasts,  no  necessity  of  a  cell  on  the  top  of  a  moun- 
tain, or  a  desolate  island  in  the  sea  ;  if  the  mind  be  con- 
fined, if  the  soul  be  truly  master  of  itself,  all  is  safe  ;  for 
it  is  certainly  and  effectually  master  of  the  body,  and  what 
signify  retreats,  especially  a  forced  retreat,  as  mine  was  ? 
The  anxiety  of  my  circumstances  there,  I  can  assure  you, 
was  such  for  a  time,  as  were  very  suitable  for  heavenly 
meditations,  and  even  when  that  was  got  over,  the  fre- 
quent alarms  from  the  savages  put  the  soul  sometimes  to 
snch  extremities  of  fear  and  horror,  that  all  manner  of 
temper  was  lost,  and  1  was  no  more  fit  for  religious  exer- 
cises than  a  sick  man  is  fit  for  labor. 

"  Divine  contemplations  require  a  composure  of  soul, 
uninterrupted  by  any  extraordinary  motions  or  disorders 
of  the  passions  f  and  this,  I  say,  is  much  easier  to  be  ob- 

'  This  is  a  distinct  Baconian  expression,  and  particularly  as  to  the 
use  of  the  words  "  many  ways,"  as  is  also  the  earlier  expression, 
"  Or  take  it  thus." 

*  We  here  liave  Bacon's  distinctive  expression  "motions  of  the 
passions."  We  likewise  find  him  using  the  expressions  "  motions  of 
anger;"  "motions  of  envy;"  "motions  of  the  imagination;" 
"  motion  of  gravity  ;"  "  motion  of  intlammation  ;"  "  motion  of 
consent  ;"  etc.  And  even  as  to  time  he  says  :  "  The  time  also  of 
tliis  justice  liath  had  his  true  motions."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  v., 


THE    STORY    OE    MY    LIFE.  353 

tained  and  enjoyed  in  the  ordinary  course  of  life,  than  in 
monkish  cells  and  forcible  retreats.' 

"  The  business  is  to  get  a  retired  soul,  a  frame  of  mind 
truly  elevated  above  the  world,  and  then  we  may  be  alone 
whenever  we  please,  in  the  greatest  apparent  hurry  of 
business  or  company.  If  the  thoughts  are  free,  and 
rightly  unengaged,  what  imports  the  employment  the  body 
is  engaged  in?  Does  not  the  soul  act  by  a  differing 
agency,  and  is  not  the  body  the  servant,  nay,  the  slave  of 
the  soul  ?  ^  lias  the  body  hands  to  act,  or  feet  to  walk, 
or  tongue  to  speak,  but  by  the  agency  of  the  understand- 
ing and  will,  which  are  the  two  deputies  of  the  soliI's 
power?  Are  not  all  the  affections  and  all  the  passions, 
which  so  universally  agitate,  direct,  and  possess  the  body, 
stre  they  not  all  seated  in  the  soul  ?  What  have  we  to  do, 
then,  more  or  less,  but  to  get  the  soul  into  a  superior 
direction  and  elevation?  Tliere  is  no  need  to  prescribe 
the  body  to  this  or  that  situation  ;  the  bands,  or  feet,  or 
tongue,  can  no  more  disturb  the  retirement  of  the  soul, 
than  a  man  having  money  in  his  pocket  can  take  it  out, 

p.  303).  \Yc  now  give  wliat  we  regard  as  a  clinchiag  instance  as  to 
tlie  oneness  of  Bacon  and  Shakespeare,  in  that  most  rare  expression 
"motion  of  the  sense,"  and  fomid  as  follows.  In  Measure  for 
Measure,  Act  i.,  sc.  5,  p.  36,  we  have  : 

"  Upon  his  place, 
And  with  full  line  of  his  authority, 
Governs  lord  Angelo  ;  a  man  whose  blood 
Is  very  snow  broth  ;  one  who  never  feels 
The  wanton  stings  and  motions  of  the  sense  ; 
But  doth  rebate  and  blunt  his  natural  edge 
With  profits  of  the  mind,  study  and  fast." 

In  the  De  Augmcutis,  ch.  4,  Book  3,  Bohn  ed.,  p.  135,  we  have  : 
"  As  for  voluntary  motion  in  animals,— the  motion  in  the  action  of  the 
senses,  the  motions  of  the  imagination,  appetite,  and  will,  the  motion 
of  the  mind,  and  the  determination,  and  other  intellectual  faculties, 
—they  have  their  own  proper  doctrines  under  which  we  range  thorn, 
confining  the  whole  of  physics  to  matter  and  efficient,  and  assigning 
over  forms  and  ends  to  metaphysics." 

'  And  thus  our  "  Great  Monk,"  our  "  Mortal  Moon,"  labored  in 
his  own  way  for  the  good  of  men.  And  his  praise,  as  stated  in  our 
introductory  sonnet,  may  yet  tind  room,  even  in  the  eyes  of  all 
posterity  that  wears  this  world  out  to  the  ending  doom. 

'^  In  this  connection  please  see  Sonnet  146.  As  to  the  "  outward 
walls"  of  the  soul,  there  mentioned,  see  Bunyan's  "  Holy  War" 
and  the  allegory  of  "  Parley  the  Porter,"  attached  to  Peun's  max- 
ims, to  which  we  shall  later  have  occasion  to  allude. 


354  THE   STORY   OF   MY   LIFE. 

or  pay  it,  or  disi')ose  of  it  by  his  hand,  without  his  own 
knowledge. 

"  It  is  the  soars  being  entangled  by  outward  objects, 
that  interrupts  its  contemplation  of  divine  objects,  which 
is  the  excuse  for  these  solitudes,  and  makes  the  removing 
the  body  from  those  outward  objects  seemingly  necessary  ; 
but  what  is  there  of  religion  in  all  this  ?  For  example, 
a  vicious  inclination,  removed  from  the  object,  is  still  a 
vicious  inclination,  and  contracts  the  same  guilt  as  if  the 
object  were  at  hand  ;  for  if,  as  our  Saviour  says,  '  He  that 
looketh  on  a  woman  to  lust  after  her,'  that  is,  to  desire 
her  unlawfully,  has  committed  the  adultery  already,  so  it 
will  be  no  inverting  our  Saviour's  meaning  to  say  that  he 
that  thinketh  of  a  woman  to  desire  her  unlawfully,  has 
committed  adultery  with  her  already,  though  he  has  not 
looked  on  her,  or  has  not  seen  her  at  that  time.  And 
how  shall  this  thinking  of  her  be  removed  by  transporting 
the  body?  It  must  be  removed  by  the  change  in  the  soul, 
by  bringing  the  mind  to  be  above  the  power  or  reach  of 
the  allurement,  and  to  an  absolute  mastership  over  the 
wicked  desire  ;  otherwise  the  vicious  desire  remains  as  the 
force  remains  in  the  gunpowder,  and  will  exert  itself 
whenever  touched  with  the  fire. 

"  All  motions  to  good'  or  evil  are  in  the  soul.  Outward 
objects  are  but  second  causes  f  and  though  it  is  true, 
separating  the  man  from  the  object  is  the  way  to  make 
any  act  impossible  to  be  committed,  yet  where  the  guilt 
does  not  lie  in  the  act  only,  but  in  the  intention  or  desire 
to  commit  it,  that  separation  is  nothing  at  all,  and  effects 
nothing  at  all.  There  may  be  as  much  adultery  committed 
in  a  monastery,  where  a  woman  never  comes,  as  in  any 

'  We  here  again  have  Bacon's  distinctive  use  of  the  word  "  mo- 
tions." And  from  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  222,  we  quote  :  "  Then 
directing  his  speech  to  Ignorance,  he  said,  Come,  how  do  you  do  ? 
How  stands  it  between  God  and  your  soul,  now  V 

Ignor.  I  hope,  well  ;  for  I  am  always  full  of  good  motions,  that 
come  into  mv  mind  to  comfort  me  as  I  walk. 

Chr.  What  good  motions  V    Pray,  tell  us." 

"^  These  are  Bacon's  views,  and  as  to  second  causes  he  says  : 
"  For  certain  it  is  that  God  worketh  nothing  in  nature  but  by  second 
causes;  and  if  they  would  have  it  otherwise  believed,  it  is  mere 
imposture,  as  it  were  in  favor  towards  God  ;  and  nothing  else  but 
to  olier  to  the  author  of  truth  the  unclean  sacrifice  of  a  lie."  (Phil. 
Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  267.) 


THE   STORY   OF   MY   LIFE.  355 

other  place,  and  perhaps  is  so.  The  abstaining  from  evil, 
therefore,  depends  not  only  and  wholly  upon  limiting  or 
confining  the  man's  actions,  but  upon  the  man's  limiting 
and  confining  his  desires  ;  seeing  to  desire  to  sin,  is  to 
sin  ;  and  the  fact  which  we  would  commit  if  we  had  op- 
portunity, is  really  committed,  and  must  be  answered  for 
as  such.  What,  then,  is  there  of  religion,  I  say,  in  forced 
retirements  from  the  world,  and  vows  of  silence  or  soli- 
tude ?  They  are  all  nothing  ;  'tis  a  retired  soul  that  alone 
is  fit  for  contemplation,  and  it  is  the  conquest  of  our  de- 
sires to  sin  that  is  the  only  human  preservative  against 
sin."  ' 

Having  claimed  in  earlier  pages  that  one  of  Bacon's 
designs  in  the  plays  was  to  furnish  patterns  to  the  mind, 
we  here  quote  him  thus  :  "  For  Plato  said  elegantly 
(though  it  has  now  grown  into  a  commonplace),  '  that 
virtue,  if  she  could  be  seen,  would  move  great  love  and 
affection  ;'  and  it  is  the  business  of  rlietoric  to  make  pic- 
tures of  virtue  and  goodness,  so  that  they  may  be  seen. 
For  since  they  cannot  be  showed  to  the  sense  in  corporeal 
shape,  the  next  degree  is  to  show  them  to  the  imagination 
in  as  lively  representation  as  possible,  by  ornament  of 
words.  For  the  method  of  the  Stoics,  who  thought  to 
thrust  virtue  upon  men  by  concise  and  sharp  maxims  and 
conclusions,  which  have  little  sympathy  with  the  imagina- 
tion and  will  of  man,  has  been  Jnstly  ridiculed  by  Cicero. 

"  Again,  if  the  affections  themselves  were  brought  to 
order,  and  pliant  and  obedient  to  reason,  it  is  true  there 
would  be  no  great  use  of  persuasions  and  insinuations  to 
give  access  to  the  mind,  but  naked  and  simple  proposi- 
tions and  proofs  woujd  be  enongh.  But  the  affections  do 
on  the  contrary  make  such  secessions  and  raise  such 
mutinies  and  seditions  (according  to  the  saying,  Video 
meliora  prohoque,  Deteriora  sequor)  that  reason  would 
become  cajDtive  and  servile,  if  eloquence  of  persuasion  did 
not  win  the  imagination  from  the  affections'  part,  and 
contract  a  confederacy  between  the  reason  and  imagina- 
tion against  them.  For  it  must  be  observed  that  the  affec- 
tions themselves  carry  over  an  appetite  to  apparent  good, 
and  have  this  in  common  witli  reason  ;  but  the  difference 
is  that  affection  holds  principally  the  good  which  is  pres- 

'  Bacon  thouglit  this  conquest  best  obtained  by  working  to  the 
view  what  is  in  man.     See  pp.  31-39. 


356  THE    STOKT    OF    MY    LIFE. 

ent  ;  reason  looks  beyond  and  beliolds  likewise  the  future 
and  sum  of  all.  And  therefore  the  present  filling  the 
imagination  more,  reason  is  commonly  vanquished  and 
overcome.  But  after  eloquence  and  force  of  persuasion 
have  made  things  future  and  remote  appear  as  present, 
then  upon  the  revolt  of  imaginatiou  to  reason,  reason  pre- 
vails." (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv. ,  p.  45G.  See  our  quotation 
at  p.  194,  and  read  ch.  3  of  Book  7  of  the  De  Augmentis, 
and  the  range  of  purpose  in  the  plays  will  appear.  In  this 
connection  please  sec  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  as  to  Passion 
and  Patience,  pp.  97-100.) 

But  we  return  to  Crusoe,  p.  11,  where  we  have  : 

"  To  pay  every  num  his  own  is  the  common  law  of  hon- 
esty, but  to  do  good  to  all  mankind,  as  far  as  you  are 
able,  is  the  chancery  law  of  houesty  ;'  and  though,  in 
common  law  or  justice,  as  I  call  it,  mankind  can  have  no 
claim  upon  us,  if  we  do  but  just  pay  our  debts,  yet  in 
heaven's  chancery  they  will  have  relief  against  us,  for 
they  have  a  demand  in  equity  of  all  the  good  to  be  done 
them  that  it  is  in  our  power  to  do,^  and  this  chnncery 
court,  or  court  of  equity,  is  held  in  every  man's  breast — 
'tis  a  true  court  of  conscience,  and  every  man's  conscience 
is  a  lord  chancellor  to  him  ;  if  he  has  not  performed,  if  he 
has  not  paid  this  debt,  conscience  will  decree  him  to  pay 
it,  or  the  penalty  of  declaring  him  a  dishonest  man,  even 
in  his  own  opinion  ;  and  if  he  still  refuses  to  comply,  will 
proceed  by  all  the  legal  steps  of  a  court  of  conscience 
process,  till  at  last  it  will  issue  out  a  writ  of  rebellion 
against  him,  and  proclaim  him  a  rebel  to  nature  and  his 
own  conscience." 

And  on  p.  13  we  have  : 

"  This  put  me  upon  inquiring  and  debating  with  myself 
what  this  subtle  and  imperceptible  thing  called  honesty  is, 
and  how  it  might  be  described,  setting  down  my  thoughts 
at  several  times,  as  objects  presented,  that  posterity,  if 
they  think  them  worth  while,  may  find  them  both  useful 
and  diverting." 

'  Bacon  says  :  "  For  certainly  the  Court  of  Heaven  (I  take  it)  is  as 
M'fll  a  Cluinrciy  to  sa\e  and  debar  foifeitures,  as  a  court  of  Com- 
mon Law  tu  decide  rights  ;  and  tLere  would  be  work  euongli  in 
Germany,  Italy,  and  other  party,  if  imperial  forfeitures  should  go 
for  good  titles."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  473.)  Sec  this  use  of 
the  word  chancellor  at  p.  56,  note  1. 

■^  Promus,  88b.     Proud  when  I  can  do  men  good. 


THE   STORY    OF    MY    LIFE.  357 

After  stating  how  he  purposes  to  handle  the  subject,  he 
continues  : 

_  "  If  any  man  from  his  private  ill-nature,  takes  excep- 
tions at  me,  poor,  wild,  wicked  Robinson  Crusoe,  for  prat- 
ing of  such  subjects  as  this  is,  and  shall  call  either  my 
sins  or  misfortunes  to  remembrance,  in  prejudice  of  what 
he  reads,  supposing  me  thereby  unqualified  to  defend  so 
noble  a  subject  as  this  of  honesty,  or,  at  least,  to  handle 
it  honestly,  I  take  the  freedom  to  tell  such,  that  those 
Yery  wild  wicked  doings  and  mistakes  of  mine  render  me 
the  properest  man  alive'  to  give  warning  to  others,  as  the 
man  that  has  been  sick  is  half  a  physician.  Besides,  tlio 
confession  which  I  all  along  make  of  my  early  errors,  and 
which  Providence,  you  see,  found  me  leisure  enough  to 
repent  of,  and,  I  hope,  gave  me  assistance  to  do  it'effec- 
tually,  assists  to  qualify  me  for  the  present  undertaking, 
as  well  to  recommend  that  rectitude  of  soul  which  I  ciUl 
honesty  to  others,  as  to  warn  those  who  are  subject  to 
mistake  it,  either  in  themselves  or  others.  Heaven  itself 
receives  those  who  sincerely  repent  into  the  same  state  of 

'  In  the  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  Act  ii.,  sc.  1,  p.  435,  we  have  : 

"  Bia7i.  Believe  me,  sister,  of  all  the  men  alive, 
I  never  yet  beheld  that  special  face 
Which  I  could  fancy  more  than  any  other." 

In  Twelfth  Night,  Act  i.,  sc.  5,  p.  371,  we  have  : 

"  Lady,  you  are  the  crudest  she  alive. 
If  you  will  lead  these  graces  to  the  grave. 
And  leave  the  world  no  copy." 

The  word  "alive"  was  often  thus  used  by  Bacon.  And  in  Sub 
852  of  his  Natural  History  he  says:  "No  wood  hath  been  yet 
tried  to  shme,  that  was  cut  down  alive,  but  sucli  as  was  rotten  both 
in  stock  and  root  wdiile  it  grew. "  In  this  subdivision  he  applies  the 
word  wood  to  men.  In  the  play  of  The  Tempest  it  was  "  wood  " 
that  Caliban  was  bringing  home.  Promus,  522.  (Any  man  can 
gather  wood  ichen  the  tree  is  down.)  Promus,  545.  A  Mercury  can- 
not be  made  of  every  wood  (but  Priapus  may).  In  Love's  Labour's 
Lost,  Act  IV.,  sc.  3,  p.  425,  we  have  : 

"  Bir.  Is  ebony  like  her  ?  O  wood  divine  ! 
A  wife  of  such  wood  were  felicity." 

And  Bacon,  in  a  letter  to  Lord  Keeper  Puckering  in  1594  says  ■ 
"  But  if  your  Lordship  consider  my  nature,  my  course  my  friends 
my  opinion  with  lier  Majesty  (if  this  eclipse  of  her  favor  Were  past)' 
1  liope  you  will  think  I  am  no  unlikely  piece  of  wood  to  shape  vou 
a  true  servant  of . "     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p   293  ) 


358  THE    STORY    OF    MY    LIFE. 

acceptance  as  if  they  had  not  sinned  at  all,  and  so  should 
we  also. 

"  They  who  repent,  and  their  ill  lives  amend, 
Stand  next  to  those  who  never  did  ollend. 

"  Nor  do  I  think  a  man  ought  to  be  afraid  or  ashamed 
to  own  and  acknowledge  his  follies  and  mistakes,  but 
rather  to  think  it  a  debt  which  honesty  obliges  him  to 
pay  ;  besides,  our  infirmities  and  errors,  to  which  all  men 
are  equally  subject,  when  recovered  from,  leave  such  im- 
pressions behind  them  on  those  who  sincerely  repent  of 
them,  that  they  are  always  the  forwardest  to  accuse  and 
reproach  themselves.  No  man  need  advise  them  or  lead 
them  ;  and  this  gives  the  greatest  discovery  of  the  honesty  of 
the  man's  heart,  and  sincerity  of  principles.  Some  people 
tell  us  they  think  they  need  not  make  an  open  acknowl- 
edgment of  their  follies,  and  'tis  a  cruelty  to  exact  it  of 
them — that  they  could  rather  die  than  submit  to  it — that 
their  spirits  are  too  great  for  it — that  they  are  more  afraid 
to  come  to  such  public  confessions  and  recognitions  than 
they  would  be  to  meet  a  cannon  bullet-,  or  to  face  an 
enemy.  Bat  this  is  a  poor  mistaken  piece  of  false  bravery  ; 
all  shame  is  cowardice,  as  an  eminent  poet  tells  us,  that 
all  courage  is  fear,  the  bravest  spirit  is  the  best  qualified 
for  a  penitent." 

And  on  p.  15  we  have  : 

"  Honesty  is  a  little  tender'  plant,  not  known  to  all  who 
have  skill  in  simyjles,^  thick  sowed,  as  they  say,  and  thin 
come  up  ;  'tis  nice  of  growth,  it  seldom  thrives  in  a  very 
fat*  soil,  and  yet  a  very  poor  ground,  too,  is  apt  to  starve 

'  Promus,  392.  (The  stuff  of  which  honor  is  made  is  rather  ten- 
der.) 

'  "  The  best  simples  for  the  stomach  are  rosemary,  elecampane, 
mastich,  wormwood,  sage,  and  mint."  (Bacon's  Natural  History, 
Sub.  10.)  In  Addison,  vol.  iv. ,  p.  825,  we  have:  "He  was  ac- 
quainted with  all  the  powers  of  simples,  understood  all  the  influ- 
ences of  the  stars,  knew  the  secrets  that  were  engraved  on  the  seal 
of  Solomon  the  son  of  David."     In  Hamlet,  Act  iv.,  sc.  7,  p.  343  : 

"  Where  it  draws  blood  no  cataplasm  so  rare, 
Collected  from  all  simples  that  have  virtue 
Under  the  moon,  can  save  the  thing  from  death,"  etc. 

This  is  the  Baconian  word  througliout. 

^  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progre.ss,  p.  327,  we  have  :  "  But  we  will  come 
again  to  this  Valley  of  Humiliation.     It  is  the  best  aud  most  fruitful 


THE   STORY   OF    MY    LIFE.  359 

it,  unless  it  has  taken  very  good  root  ;  when  it  once  takes 
to  a  piece  of  ground  it  will  never  be  quite  destroyed  ;  it 
may  be  choked  with  the  weeds  of  prosperity,  and  some- 
times 'tis  so  scorched  up  with  the  droughts  of  poverty  and 
necessity,  that  it  seems  as  if  it  were  quite  dead  and  gone  ; 
but  it  always  revives  upon  the  least  mild  weather,  and  if 
some  showers  of  plenty  fall,  it  makes  full  reparation  for 
the  loss  the  gardener  had  in  his  crop. 

"  There  is  an  ugly  weed,  called  cunning,'  which  is  very 
pernicious  to  it,  and  which  particularly  injures  it,  by 
hiding  it  from  our  discovery,  and  making  it  hard  to  find. 
This  is  so  like  honesty,  that  many  a  man  has  been  deceived 
with  it,  and  has  taken  one  for  t'other  in  the  market  ; 
nay,  I  have  heard  of  some  who  have  planted  this  wild'^ 
honesty,  as  we  may  call  it,  in  their  own  ground,  have 
made  use  of  it  in  their  friendships  and  dealings,  and 
thought  it  had  been  the  true  plant,  but  they  always  lost 
credit  by  it.  And  that  was  not  the  worst  neither,  for 
they  had  the  loss  who  dealt  with  them,^  and  who  chaffered 
for  a  counterfeit  commodity  ;  and  we  find  many  deceived 
so  still,  which  is  the  occasion  there  is  such  au  outcry 
about  false  friends,  and  about  sharping  and  tricking  in 
men's  ordinary  dealings  in  the  world." 

And  on  pp.  IG  and  17  we  have  : 

*'  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  1  could  state  a  circumstance 
in  which  there  is  not  one  man  in  the  world  would  be  hon- 
est. JSJecessity  is  above  the  power  of  human  nature,  and 
for  Providence  to  suffer  a  man  to  fall  into  that  necessity 

piece  of  ground  in  all  these  parts.  It  is  fat  ground,  and,  as  you  see, 
consisteth  mucli  in  meadows  ;  and  if  a  man  was  to  come  here  in  the 
summer- time,  as  we  do  now,  if  he  knew  not  anything  before  thereof, 
and  if  lie  also  delighted  himself  in  the  sight  of  his  C3'es,  he  might 
see  that  which  would  be  delightful  to  him. "  Bacon  in  his  Natural 
History  speaks  of  "  fat  ground."  He  also  says  the  cabbage  has  "  a 
fat  leaf." 

'  See  Bacon's  Essay  entitled  "  Of  Cunning." 

'^  We  not  only  find  Bacon  using  the  foregoing  expression  thick 
"  sowed,"  but  also  this  use  of  the  word  "  wild,"  and  his  Essay  en- 
titled "  Of  Revenge"  opens  thus  :  "  Revenge  is  a  kind  of  wild  jus- 
tice ;  which  the  more  man's  nature  runs  to,  the  more  ought  law  to 
weed  it  out."  And  in  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  130,  we  have  the  expres- 
sion "wild  logic,"  and  on  p.  192  "the  metaphors  are  not  thick- 
sown." 

'  He  here  alludes  to  those  that  had  dealt  unjustly  by  him,  as  later 
w^e  sliall  see. 


360  THE   STORY   OF   MY   LIFE. 

is  to  suffer  him  to  sin,  because  nature  is  not  furnished 
with  power  to  defend  itself,  nor  is  grace  itself  able  to 
fortify  the  mind  against  it. 

"  What  shall  we  say  to  five  men  in  a  boat  at  sea,  with- 
out provision,  calling  a  council  together,  and  resolving  to 
kill  one  of  themselves  for  the  others  to  feed  on,  and  eat 
him  ?  With  what  face  could  the  four  look  up  and  crave 
a  blessing  on  that  meat?  With  what  heart  give  thanks 
after  it  ?  And  yet  this  has  been  done  by  honest  men,  and 
I  believe  the  most  honest  man  in  the  world  might  be 
forced  to  it  ;  yet  here  is  no  manner  of  pretence  but  neces- 
sity, to  palliate  the  crime.  If  it  be  argued  it  was  the  loss 
of  one  man  to  save  the  four,  it  is  answered,  but  what 
authority  to  make  him  die  to  save  their  lives?  How  came 
the  man  to  owe  them  such  a  debt  ?  It  was  robbery  and 
murder  ;  it  was  robbing  him  of  this  life,  which  was  his 
]u-opcrty,  to  preserve  mine  ;  it  is  murder,  by  taking  away 
the  life  of  an  innocent  man  ;  and  at  best  it  was  doing 
evil  tnat  good  may  come,  which  is  expressly  forbidden." 

Again  : 

"  That  we  may  see  now  whether  this  man's  honesty  lies 
any  deeper  than  his  neighbor's,  turn  the  scales  of  his 
fortune  a  little.  His  father  left  him  a  good  estate  ;  but 
here  come  some  relations,  and  they  trump  up  a  title  to  his 
lands,  and  serve  ejectments  upon  his  tenants,  and  so  the 
man  gets  into  trouble,  hurry  of  business,  and  the  law  ;  the 
extravagant  charges  of  the  law  sink  him  of  all  his  ready 
money,  and,  his  rents  being  stopped,  the  first  breach  ho 
makes  upon  his  honesty  (that  is,  by  his  former  rules),  he 
goes  to  a  friend  to  borrow  money,  tells  him  this  matter 
will  be  over,  he  hopes,  quickly,  and  he  shall  have  his  rents 
to  receive,  and  then  he  will  pay  him  again  ;  and  really  he 
intends  to  do  so,  but  here  comes  a  disappointment  ;  the 
trial  comes  on,  and  he  is  cast,'  and  his  title  to  the  estate 

'  As  lo  this  use  of  the  word  "  cast,"  Bacou  iu  a  letter  to  Bucking- 
ham, January  23d,  1628,  says  :  "  I  am  almost  at  last  cast  for  means, 
and  yet  it  grieveth  me  most,  that  at  such  a  time  as  this  I  sliould  not 
he  rather  serviceable  to  your  Grace  than  troublesome."  (Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  452.)  He  also  says  :  "  La.stly,  I  did  cast  with 
myself,  that  if  your  Lordship's  deputies  had  come  in  by  Sir  Edward 
Coke  who  was  tied  to  Somerset,"  etc.  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi., 
p.  117  )  And  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  125,  we  have  :  "  Then 
did  Christian  begin  to  be  afraid,  and  cast  iu  his  mind  whether  to  go 
back  or  to  stand  his  ground." 


THE   STORY    OF    MY    LIFE.  361 

proves  defective  ;  his  father  was  cheated,  and  he  not  only 
loses  the  estate,  but  is  called  upon  for  the  arrears  of  the 
rent  he  has  received  ;  and,  in  short,  the  man  is  undone,' 
and  has  not  a  penny  to  buy  bread  or  to  help  himself,  and, 
besides  this,  cannot  pay  the  money  he  borrowed." 

And  on  p.  18  we  have  : 

"  But  when  we  are  considering  human  nature  subjected, 
by  the  consequences  of  Adam's  transgression,  to  frailty 
and  infirmity,  and  regarding  things  from  man  to  man, 
the  exigencies  and  extremities  of  straitened  circumstances 
seem  to  me  to  be  most  prevailing  arguments  why  the 
denomination  of  a  man's  general  character  ought  not  by 
his  fellow-mortals  (subject  to  the  same  infirmities)  to  be 
gathered  from  his  mistakes,  his  errors,  or  failings  ;  no, 
not  from  his  being  guilty  of  any  extraordinary  sin,  but 
from  the  manner  and  method  of  his  behavior.  Does  he 
go  on  to  commit  frauds,  and  make  a  practice  of  his  sin.? 
Is  it  a  distress?  Is  it  a  storm  of  alliiction  and  poverty  has 
driven  him  upon  the  lee-shore  of  temptation  ?*  Or  is  the 
sin  the  port  he  steered  for?  A  ship  may  by  stress  of 
weather  be  driven  upon  sands  and  dangerous  places,  and 
the  skill  of  the  pilot  not  be  blamable  ;  but  he  that  runs 
against  the  wind,  and  without  any  necessity,  upon  a 
shelve  which  he  sees  before  him,  must  do  it  on  purpose  to 
destroy  the  vessel,  and  ruin  the  voyage. 

"  In  short,  if  no  man  can  be  called  honest  but  he  who 
is  never  overcome  to  fall  into  any  breach  of  this  rectitude 
of  life,  none  but  he  who  is  sufficiently  fortified  against  all 
possibility  of  being  tempted  by  prospects,  or  driven  by 
distress,  to  make  any  trespass  upon  his  integrity  ;  woe  be 
unto  me  that  write,  and  to  most  that  read  !  where  shall 
we  find  the  honest  man  ?" 

And  on  p.  22  we  have  : 

"  There  are  men,  indeed,  who  will  be  exceeding  punc- 
tual to  their  words  and  promises,  who  yet  cannot  be  called 
honest  men,  because  they  have  other  vices  and  excursions' 

'  To  Bacon's  Promus  Note  touching  this  word  "  undone"  we 
have  already  called  attention.     See  p.  93,  note  3. 

*  Already  have  we  given  intimation  of  an  undisclosed  financial 
element  connected  with  Bacon's  overthrow.  This  we  purpose  later 
to  call  under  review  in  conueclion  with  a  secret  scheme  for  revenue 
mentioned  in  earlier  pages. 

^  This  use  of  tlie  word  "  excursion"  is  distinctly  Baconian,  and 
used  not  merely  iu  his  philosophy,  but  generally  throughout  these 


3G2  THE   STORY   OF   MY   LIFE. 

that  render  them  otherwise  wicked.  These  give  their 
testimony  to  the  beauty  of  honesty,  by  choosing  it  as  the 
best  mark  to  put  a  gloss  upon  their  actions  and  conceal 
the  other  deformities  of  their  lives  ;  and  so  honesty,  like 
religion,  is  made  use  of  to  disguise  the  hypocrite  and  raise 
a  reputation  upon  the  shadow,  by  the  advantage  it  takes 
of  the  real  esteem  the  world  has  of  the  substance.  I  say 
of  this  counterfeit  honesty,  as  I  said  of  religion  in  like 
cases.  If  honesty  was  not  the  most  excellent  attainment, 
it  would  not  be  made  use  of  as  the  most  specious  pretence  ; 
nor  is  there  a  more  exquisite  way  for  a  man  to  play  the 
hypocrite  than  to  pretend  an  extraordinary  zeal  to  the 
performance  of  his  promises  ;  because,  when  the  opinion 
of  a  man's  honesty  that  way  has  spread  in  the  thoughts  of 
men,  there  is  nothing  so  great  but  they  will  trust  him 
with,  nor  is  hard  but  they  will  do  it  for  him. 

"  All  men  reverence  an  honest  man  :  the  knaves  stand 
in  awe  of  him,  fools  adore  him  and  wise  men  love  him  ; 
and  thus  is  virtue  its  own  reward.' 

"  Honest  men  are  in  more  danger  from  this  one  hypo- 
crite than  from  twenty  open  knaves  f  for  these  have  a 
mark  placed  upon  them  by  their  general  character,  as  a 
buoy  upon  a  rock  to  warn  strangers  from  venturing  upon 
it.  But  the  hypocrites  are  like  a  pit  covered  over,  like 
shoals  under  water,  and  danger  concealed  which  cannot  be 
seen.  I  must  confess  I  have  found  these  the  most  dan- 
gerous, and  have  too  deeply  suffered  by  throwing  myself 

writings.  He  says  :  "  As  nature,  therefore,  governs  all  things  by 
means  (1)  of  her  general  course  ;  (2)  lier  excursion  ;  and  (3)  by  means 
of  human  assistance  ;  these  three  parts  must  be  received  into  natural 
history  as  in  some  measure  they  are  by  Pliny."  (De  Augmentis, 
Bohn  ed.,  p.  80,  and  see  pp.  131,  143,  and  329.)  In  Addison,  vol. 
iv.,  p.  81,  we  have  :  "  As  a  monosyllable  is  my  delight,  I  have 
made  few  excursions,  in  the  conversations  which  I  have  related, 
beyond  a  yes  or  a  no."  Observe  Bacon's  expression  "gloss  upon 
their  actions,"  and  "  deformity  of  their  lives."  He  also  says  :  "  I 
do  not  love  to  set  the  gloss  before  the  text."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol. 
v.,  p.  230.)  He  says  :  "  In  the  mean  time  it  is  proper  to  read  the 
disagreeing  philosophies,  as  so  many  glosses  of  nature."  (De 
Augmentis,  ch.  3,  Book  4,  Bohn  ed.,  p.  137.) 

'  This  thought  is  distinctly  Baconian,  and  nearly  in  Bacon's  own 
words  in  another  place. 

'  This  word  "  knave"  was  Bacon's  word  for  this  place,  and  it  is 
spread  everywhere,  not  only  in  the  plays,  but  generally  in  this  liter- 
ature.    Promus,  833a.     (J.  practical  knave.) 


THE   STORY   OF   MY    LIFE.  363 

on  their  protestations  of  honesty."  The  esteem  I  always 
entertained  of  the  most  beautiful  gift  God  has  bestowed, 
or  man  could  receive,  has  made  me  the  easier  to  be  de- 
ceived with  the  resemblance  of  it, 

"  So  much  as  I,  or  any  one  else,  by  the  viciousness  of 
our  own  nature,  or  the  prevailing  force  of  accidents, 
snares,  and  temptations,  have  deviated  from  this  shining 
principle,  so  far  as  we  have  been  foolish  as  well  as  wicked, 
so  much  we  have  to  repent  of  towards  our  Maker,  and  be 
ashamed  of  towards  our  neighbor. 

"  For  my  part,  I  am  never  backward  to  own,  let  who 
will  be  the  reader  of  these  slieets,  that  to  the  dishonor  of 
my  Maker,  and  the  just  scandal  of  my  own  honesty,  I 
have  not  paid  that  due  regard  to  the  rectitude  of  this 
principle  which  my  own  knowledge  has  owned  to  be  its 
due  ;  let  those  who  have  been  juster  to  themselves,  and  to 
the  giver  of  it,  rejoice  in  the  happiness,  rather  than 
triumph  over  the  intlrmity. 

"  But  let  them  be  sure  they  have  been  juster  on  their 
own  parts  ;  let  them  be  positive  that  their  own  integrity 
is  untainted,  and  would  abide  all  the  trials  and  racks  that 
a  ruined  fortune,  strong  temptations,  and  deep  distresses, 
could  bring  it  into  ;  let  them  not  boast  till  these  dangers 
are  past,  and  they  put  their  armour  off  ;  and  if  they  can 
do  it,  then  I  will  freely  acknowledge  they  have  less  need 
of  repentance  than  I. 

"  Not  that  I  pretend,  as  I  noted  before,  and  shall  often 
repeat,  that  these  circumstances  render  my  failing,  or  any 
man's  else,  the  less  a  sin,  but  they  make  the  reason  why 
we  that  have  fallen  should  rather  be  pitied'ihan  reproached 
by  those  who  think  they  stand,  because,  when  the  same 
assaults  are  made  upon  the  chastity  of  their  honor,  it  may 
be  every  jot  as  likely  to  be  prostrated  as  their  neighbor's. 

"  And  such  is  the  folly  of  scandal,  as  well  as  the  blind- 
ness of  malice,  that  it  seldom  fixes  reproach  upon  the 
right  foot.  I  have  seen  so  much  of  it,  with  respect  to 
other  people,  as  well  as  to  myself,  that  it  gives  me  a  very 

'  The  methods  of  both  king  and  Buckingham  with  Bacon  have 
already  been  called  under  review,  and  found  as  well  without  as 
within  the  sonnets.  Promus,  1083.  (Trust  [confidence]  nowhere 
safe.)  Did  space  permit,  many  points  whicli  we  leave  untouched 
might  be  made  concerning  those  Serious  Reflections. 

-  See  Sonnet  114. 


364  THE    STORY    OF   MY    LIFE. 

scoundrel  opinion  of  all  those  people  whom  I  find  forward 
to  load  their  neighbors  with  reproach.  Notiiing  is  more 
frequent  in  this  case  than  to  run  away  with  a  piece  of  a 
man's  character,  in  which  they  err,  and  do  him  wrong 
and  leave  that  part  of  him  untouched  which  is  really 
black,  and  would  bear  it ;  this  makes  me  sometimes,  when 
with  the  humblest  and  most  abasing  thoughts  of  myself, 
I  look  up,  and  betwixt  God  and  my  own  soul,  cry  out, 
*  What  a  wretch  am  1  ! '  at  the  same  time  smile  at  the 
hair-brained  enemy,  whose  tongue  tipped  with  malice,  runs 
ahead  of  his  understanding,  and  missing  the  crimes  for 
which  I  deserve  more  than  he  can  afflict,  reproaches  me 
with  those  I  never  committed.  Methinks  I  am  ready  to 
call  him  back,  like  the  huntsman,  when  the  dogs  run  upon 
the  foil,  and  say,  '  Hold,  hold,  you  are  wrong  ;  take  him 
here,  and  you  have  him.' 

"  I  question  not  but  'tis  the  same  with  other  people  ; 
for  when  malice  is  in  the  heart,  reproach  generally  goes  a 
mile  before  consideration,  and  where  is  the  honesty  of  the 
man  all  this  while?  This  is  trampling  upon  my  pride, 
sed  majori  fastu,  but  with  greater  pride  ;  'tis  exposing 
my  dishonesty,  but  with  the  greatest  knavery  ;  'tis  a 
method  no  honest  man  will  take,  and  when  taken,  no 
honest  man  regards  ;'  wherefore,  let  none  of  these  sons  of 
slander  take  satisfaction  in  the  frequent  acknowledgments 
I  am  always  ready  to  make  of  my  own  failing,  for  that 
humility  with  which  I  always  find  cause  to  look  into  my 
own  heart,  where  I  see  others  worse,  and  more  guilty  of 
crimes  than  they  can  lay  to  my  charge,  yet  makes  me  look 
back  upon  their  weakness  with  the  last  contempt,  who  fix 
their  important  charges  where  there  is  no  room  to  take 
hold,  and  run  away  with  the  air  and  shadow  of  crimes 
never  committed." 

We  will  here  pass  chapter  3,  which  is  devoted  to  the  sub- 
ject of  the  reformation  of  manners,"  and  give  place  to 

'  Later,  in  the  newly  discovered  writings  of  Defoe,  we  may  find 
short,  terse  articles  upon  these  points.  We  shall  likewise  find  how 
likely  he  was  to  have  been  author  of  the  works  attributed  to  him. 

^  Let  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  these  Serious  Reflections  were  the 
line  or  thread  along  and  upon  which  was  woven  a  considerable  portion 
of  the  Defoe  literature.  Bacon  says":  "  But  knowledge  that  is  de- 
livered to  others  as  a  thread  to  be  spun  on  ought  to  be  insinuated 
(if  it  were  possible),  in  the  same  method  wherein  it  was  originally 
invented."     (De  Augmentis,  ch.  2,  Book  6.) 


THE    STORY    OF    MY    LIFE,  3G5 

some  thoughts  from  chapter  4,  which  is  devoted  to  tlie 
subject  of  the  then  state  of  religion  in  the  world,  and 
which  bears  directly  upon  Bacon's  aims  presented  in  1G22, 
touching  a  holy  war  against  the  Turks.  Near  the  open- 
ing of  the  chapter,  and  from  p.  3G,  we  quote  as  follows  : 

"  You  may  now  suppose  me  to  be  arrived,  after  a  long 
course  of  infinite  variety  on  the  stage  of  the  world,  to  the 
scene  of  life  we  call  old  age,  and  that  I  am  writing  these 
sheets  in  a  season  of  my  time  when  (if  ever)  a  man  may 
be  supposed  capable  of  making  jnst  reflections  upon  things 
past,  a  true  Judgment  of  things  present,  and  tolerable  con- 
clusions of  things  to  come. 

"  In  the  beginning  of  this  life  of  composure  (for  now, 
and  not  till  now,  I  may  say,  that  I  began  to  live,  that  is 
to  say,  a  sedate  and  composed  life),  I  inquired  of  myself 
very  seriously  one  day  what  was  the  proper  business  of 
old  age.  The  answer  was  very  natural,  and  indeed  re- 
turned very  quick  upon  me,  namely,  that  two  things  were 
my  present  work,  as  above  : 

"  1.  Reflection  upon  things  past. 
"  2.  Serious  application  to  things  future. 
"  Having  resolved  the  business  of  life  into  these  heads, 
I  began  immediately  with  the  first  ;  and,  as  sometimes 
I  took  my  pen  and  ink  to  disburden  my  thoughts  when 
the  subject  crowded  in  fast  upon  me,  so  I  have  here  com- 
municated some  of  my  observations  for  the  benefit  of 
those  that  come  after  me." 

Here  follows  a  dialogue  wherein  a  new  idea  seems  to 
have  sprung  up  in  Crusoe's  mind  on  having  the  subject 
of  supplication  contrasted  with  that  of  adoration,  and 
which  may,  we  think,  have  given  origin  to  The  Pilgrim's 
Progress.  The  dialogue  concluded,  Crusoe  continues 
thus  : 

"  I  thought  this  serious  old  lady  would  have  entertained 
a  further  discourse  with  me  on  so  fruitful  a  subject,  but 
she  declined  it,  and  left  me  to  my  own  meditation,  which, 
indeed,  she  had  raised  to  an  unusual  pitch  ;  and  the_ first 
thing  that  occurred  to  me,  was  to  put'  me  upon  inquiring 
after  that  nice  thing  I  ought  to  call  religion  in  the  world, 
seeing  really  I  found  reason  to  think  that  there  was  much 

'  This  use  of  the  word  "  put"  was  not  uncommon  with  Bacon, 
and  a  little  later,  in  our  quotation  from  the  New  Atlantis,  we  shall 
hud  him  using  the  expression  "  which  did  put  us  into  some  hope." 


3G6  THE    STORY   OF   MY    LIFE. 

more  devotion  than  religion  in  the  world  ;  in  a  word, 
much  more  adoration  than  supplication  ;  and  I  doubt,  as 
I  come  nearer  home,  it  will  appear  that  there  is  much 
more  hypocrisy  than  sincerity, — of  which  I  may  speak  by 
itself.  1  ■    ■ 

"  In  my  first  inquiries,  I-  looked  back  upon  my  own 
travels,  and  it  afforded  me  but  a  melancholy  reflection, 
that  in  all  the  voyages  and  travels  which  I  have  employed 
two  volumes  in  giving  a  relation  of,  I  never  set  my  foot  in 
a  Christian  country, — no,  not  in  circling  three  parts  of 
the  globe  ;  for  excepting  the  Brazils,  where  the  Portuguese 
indeed  profess  the  Eoman  Catholic  principles,  which, 
however,  in  distinction  from  paganism,  I  will  call  the 
Christian  religion, — I  say,  except  the  Brazils,  where  also 
I  made  little  stay,  I  could  not  be  said  to  set  foot  in  a 
Christian  country,  or  a  country  inhabited  by  Christians, 
from  the  Bay  of  La'rache,  and  the  port  of  Sallee,  by  the 
Strait's  mouth,  where  I  escaped  from  slavery,  through  the 
Atlantic  Ocean,  the  coasts  of  Africa  on  one  side,  and  of 
Caribbea  on  the  American  shore,  on  the  other  side  ;  from 
thence  to  Madagascar,  Malabar,  and  the  bay  and  city  of 
Bengali,  the  coast  of  Sumatra,  Malacca,  Siam,  Cambodia, 
Cochin  China,  the  empire  and  coast  of  China,  the  deserts 
of  Karakathay,  the  Mogul  Tartars,  the  Siberian,  the  Sam- 
oiede  barbarians,  and  till  1  came  within  four  or  five  days 
of  Archangel  in  the  Black  Russia.^ 

"  It  is,  I  say,  a  melancholy  reflection  to  think  how  all 

'  Tliis  is  done  further  ou  in  the  chapter,  under  the  head  of  Negative 
Religion  and  Negative  Virtue.  He  says  :  "Negative  virtue  sets  out 
like  the  Pharisee  with  God,  I  thank  thee  ;  it  is  a  piec^  of  religious 
pageantry,  a  jointed  baby  dressed  up  gay,  but,  stripped  of  its  gew- 
gaws, it  appears  a  naked  lump  tit  only  to  please  children  and  deceive 
fools.  It  is  the  hope  of  the  hypocrite,  it  is  a  cheat  upon  the  neigh- 
borhood, a  dress  for  without  doors,  for  it  is  of  no  use  within  ;  it  is 
a  mask  put  on  for  a  character,  and  as  generally  it  is  used  to  cheat 
others,  it  is  so  iguorantly  embraced  that  we  cheat  even  ourselves 
with  it."  Let  the  expression  "  jointed  baby"  be  particularly  noted 
for  future  reference.  And  in  this  connection  read  in  The  Pilgrim's 
Progress  the  dialogue  betweeu  Faithful  and  Talkative,  pp.  146-58. 
Inhis  preface  to  the  De  Augmentis  Bacon  says  :  "  And  as  to  the 
point  of  usefulness,  the  philosophy  we  principally  received  from  the 
Greeks  ^  must  be  acknowledged  puerile,  or  rather  talkative  than 
generative— as  being  fruitful  in  controversies,  but  barren  in  effects." 
Bacon  in  many  places  thus  makes  use  of  this  word  "  talkative." 

-  Were  not  these  voyages  framed  in  part  to  show  this  then  state 
of  the  Christian  world  V 


TUB    STORY    OF   MY    LIFE.  367 

these  parts  of  the  world,  and  with  infinite  numhers  of 
millions  of  people,  furnished  with  the  powers  of  reason 
and  gifts  of  nature,  and  many  ways,  if  not  every  way,  as 
capable  of  the  reception  of  sublime  things  as  we  are,  are 
yet  abandoned  to  the  grossest  ignorance  and  depravity  ; 
and  that  not  in  religion  only,  but  even  in  all  the  desirable 
parts'  of  human  knowledge,  and.  especially  science  and 
acquired  knowledge." 

And  on  p.  39  we  have  : 

"  Nay,  further,  I  must  observe  also,  that  as  the  Chris- 
tian religion  has  worn  out,  or  been  removed  from  any 
country,  and  they  have  returned  to  heathenism  and  idol- 
atry, so  the  barbarisms  have  returned,  the  customs  of  the 
heathen  nations  have  been  again  restored,  the  very  nature 
and  temper  of  the  people  have  been  again  lost,  all  their 
generous  principles  have  forsaken  them,  the  softness  and 
goodness  of  their  dispositions  have  worn  out,  and  they 
have  returned  to  cruelty,  inhumanity,  ra2:>ine,  and  blood." 

And  again,  same  page  : 

"  Nor  will  it  be  denied  if  I  should  carry  this  yet  further, 
and  observe,  that  even  among  Christians,  those  who  are 
reformed,  and  further  and  further  Christianized,  are  still 
in  proportion  rendered  more  human,  more  soft  and  ten- 
der ;  and  we  do'  find,  without  being  partial  to  ourselves, 
that  even  the  Protestant  countries  are  much  distinguished 
in  the  humanity  and  softness  of  their  tempers  ;  the  meek, 
merciful  disposition  extends  more  among  Protestants  than 
among  the  Papists,  as  I  could  very  particularly  demon- 
strate from  history  and  experience. 

"  But  to  return  back  to  the  Moors,  where  I  left  off  ;3 — 
they  are  an  instance  of  that  cruelty  of  disposition  which 

'  To  Bacon's  use  of  this  word  "  part"  we  have  already  called  atten- 
tion. 

■^  To  a  kind  of  distinctive  use  of  the  word  "  do"  by  Bacon,  and 
seemingly  for  emphasis,  we  have  already  called  attention.  It  will 
be  found  everywhere  in  tlie  plays.  See  p.  36.  In  Csesar,  Act  i., 
sc.  3,  p.  836,  we  have  : 

"  Cas.  I  know  that  virtue  to  be  in  you,  Brutus, 
As  well  as  I  do  know  your  outward  favor." 

Nor  should  we  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  one  hundred  years  inter- 
venes between  the  literary  period  of  Bacon  and  tiiat  of  Defoe. 

^  Did  space  permit,  the  play  of  Othello,  the  Moor  of  Venice,  might 
be  here  properly  called  into  relation. 


368  THE    STORY    OF   MY    LIFE. 

was  fincinntly  in  their  nature,  and  now  in  a  country  aban- 
doned of  the  true  Christian  religion,  after  it  has  been  first 
planted  and  professed  among  them,  the  return  of  heathen- 
ism or  Mahomedanism  has  brought  back  with  it  all  the 
barbarisms  of  a  nation  void  of  religion  and  good  nature. 

"  I  saw  enough  of  these  dreadful  people  to  think  them 
at  this  time  the  worst  of  all  the  nations  of  the  world  ;  a 
nation  where  no  such  thing  as  a  generous  spirit,  or  a  tem- 
per with  any  compassion  mixed  with  it,  is  to  be  found  ; 
among  whom  nature  appears  stripped  of  all  the  additional 
glories  which  it  derives  from  religion,  and  yet  whereon  a 
Christian  flourishing  church  had  stood  several  hundred 
years. ' ' 

And  on  p.  40  we  have  : 

"  China  is  famous  for  wisdom,  that  is  to  say,  that  they, 
having  such  a  boundless  conceit  of  their  own  wisdom,  we 
are  obliged  to  allow  them  more  than  they  have  ;  the  truth 
is,  they  are  justly  said  to  be  a  wise  nation  among  the  fool- 
ish ones,  and  may  as  justly  be  called  a  nation  of  fools 
among  the  wise  ones. 

"  As  to  their  religion,  it  is  all  summed  up  in  Confucius' s 
Maxims,  whose  theology  I  take  to  be  a  rhapsody  of  moral 
conclusions  ;  a  foundation,  or  what  we  may  call  elements 
of  polity,  morality,  and  superstition,  huddled  together  in 
a  rhapsody  of  words,'  without  consistency,  and,  indeed, 
with  very  little  reasoning  in  it  ;  then  it  is  really  not  so 
much  as  a  refined  paganism,  for  there  are,  in  my  opinion, 
much  more  regular  doings  among  some  of  the  Indians  that 
are  pagans,  in  America,  than  there  are  in  China  ;  and  if 
I  may  believe  the  account  given  of  the  government  of 
Montezuma  in  Mexico,  and  of  the  Uncas  of  Cusco  in  Peru, 
their  worship  and  religion,  such  as  it  was,  was  carried  on 
with  more  regularity  than  those  in  China."  As  to  the 
human  ingenuity,  as  they  call  it,  of  the  Chinese,  1  shall 

'  "  Rhapsody  of  words"  is  a  Baconian  expression. 

"  In  the  play  of  The  Tempest  it  may  be  seen  that  Cetebos,  a  god 
worshipped  in  some  of  tliese  locaUties,  was  the  god  of  Sycorax,  wiio 
was  from  Algiers.  See  Hudson's  note  to  the  play  upon  this  point. 
In  his  Essay  entitled  "  Of  Atheism,"  Bacon  says  :  "  The  Indians  of 
the  west  have  names  for  their  particular  gods,  though  they  have  no 
name  for  God  ;  as  if  the  heathens  should  have  had  the  name  of 
Jupiter,  Apollo,  Mars,  etc.,  but  not  the  word  L(iii<  ;  wliich  shows 
that  even  those  barbarous  people  have  the  notion,  though|,they  have 
not  the  latitude  and  extent  of  it." 


THE   STORY    OF   MY   LIFE.  3G9 

account  for  it  by  itself.  The  utmost  discoveries  of  it  to 
me  appeared  in  the  mechanics,  and  even  in  them  inlinitely 
short  of  what  is  found  among  the  European  nations. 

"  But  let  us  take  these  people  to  pieces  a  little,  and 
examine  into  the  great  pretension  they  are  so  famed  for  ; 
first  of  all,  their  knowledge  has  not  led  them  that  length' 
in  religious  matters  which  the  common  notions  of  philoso- 
phy w^ould  have  done,  and  to  which  they  did  lead  the  wise 
heathiens  of  old  among  the  Grecian  and  Eoman  empires  ; 
for  they,  having  not  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God,  pre- 
served notwithstanding,  the  notion  of  a  God  to  be  some- 
thing immortal,  omnipotent,  sublime-;  exalted  above  in 
place  as  well  as  authority,  and  therefore  made  heaven  to 
be  the  seat  of  their  gods,  and  the  images  by  which  they 
represented  their  gods  and  goddesses  had  always  some  per- 
fections that  were  really  to  be  admired  as  the  attendants 
of  their  gods,  as  Jupiter  was  called  the  Thunderer  for  his 
power  ;  father  of  gods  and  men,  for  his  seniority  ;  Venus, 
adored  for  her  beauty  ;  Mercury  for  swiftness  ;  Apollo 
for  wit,  poetry,  music  ;  Mars  for  terror  and  gallantry  in 
arms,  and  the  like.  But  when  we  come  to  these  polite 
nations  of  China,  which  yet  we  cry  up  for  sense  and  great- 
ness of  genius,  we  see  them  grovelling  in  the  very  sink 
and  filth  of  idolatry  ;  their  idols  are  the  most  frightful 
monstrous  shapes,  not  the  form  of  any  real  creature, 
much  less  the  images  of  virtue,  of  chastity,  of  literature,  but 
horrid  shapes,  of  their  priests'  invention  ;  neither  hellish 
nor  human  monsters,  composed  of  invented  forms,  with 
neither  face  nor  figure,  but  with  the  utmost  distortions, 
formed  neither  to  walk,  stand,  fly,  or  go,  neither  to  hear, 
see,  or  speak,  but  merely  to  instil  horrible  ideas  of  some- 
thing nauseous  and  abominable  into  the  minds  of  men 
that  adored  them. 

"  If  I  may  be  allowed  to  give  my  notions  of  worship, 
I  mean  as  it  relates  to  the  objects  of  natural  homage, 
where  the  name  and  nature  of  God  is  not  revealed,  as  in 
the  Christian  religion,  I  must  acknowledge  the  sun,  the 
moon,  the  stars,  the  elements,  as  in  the  pagan  and  heathen 
nations  of  old  ;  and  above  all  these,  the  representations  of 
superior  virtues  and  excellences  among  men,  such  as  valor, 
fortitude,  chastity,  patience,  beauty,  strength,  love,  Icarn- 

'  "  Led  tliem  that  lenglli"  is  a  Bacoiiiau  expression. 


370  THE   STORY   OF    MY    LIFE. 

ing,  wisdom,  and  the  like  ;  the  objects  of  worship  in  the 
Grecian  and  Roman  times'  were  far  more  eligible  and 
more  rational  objects  of  divine  rites  than  the  idols  of 
China  and  Japan, ^  where,  with  all  the  economy  of  their 
state  maxims  and  rules  of  civil  government,  which  we  in- 
sist so  much  on  as  tests  of  their  wisdom,  their  grand 
capacities  and  understandings,  their  worship  is  the  most 
brutish,  and  the  objects  of  their  worship,  the  coarsest,  the 
most  unmanly,  inconsistent  with  reason  or  the  nature  of 
religion  of  any  the  world  can  show  ;  bowing  down  to  a 
mere  hobgoblin,  and  doing  their  reverence  not  to  the  work 
of  man's  hands  only,  by  the  ugliest,  basest,  fnghtfullest 
things  that  man  could  make  ;  images  so  far  from  being 
lovely  and  amiable,  as  in  the  nature  of  worship  is  implied, 
that  they  are  the  most  detestable  and  nauseous,  even  to 
nature." 

And  on  p.  41  we  have  : 

"  But  let  me  come  to  their  mechanics,  in  which  their 
ingenuity  is  so  much  cried  up  ;  I  affirm  there  is  little  or 
nothing  sufficient  to  build  the  mighty  opinion  we  have  of 
them  upon  but  what  is  founded  upon  the  comparisons 
which  we  make  between  them  and  other  pagan  nations, 
or  proceeds  from  the  wonder  which  we  make  that  they 
should  have  any  knowledge  of  mechanic  arts,  because  we 
find  the  remote  inhabitants  of  Africa  and  America  so 
grossly  ignorant  and  so  entirely  destitute  in  such  things  ; 
whereas  we  do  not  consider  that  the  Chinese  inhabit  the 
continent  of  Asia,  and  though  they  are  separated  by  deserts 
and  wildernesses,  yet  they  are  a  continuous  continent  of 
land  with  the  parts  of  the  world  once  inhabited  by  the 
politer  Medes,  Persians,  and  Grecians  ;  that  the  first  ideas 
of  mechanic  arts  were  probably  received  from  them  from 
the  Persians,  Assyrians,  and  the  banished  transplanted 
Israelites,  who  are  said  to  be  carried  into  the  regions  of 
Parthia  and  the  borders  of  Karacathay,  from  whence  they 
are  also  said  to  have  communicated  arts,  and  especially 
handicraft  in  which  the  Israelites  excelled,  to  the  inhabi- 
tants of  all  those  countries,  and,  consequently,  in  time  to 
those  beyond  them." 

We  shall  later  call  the  foregoing  thoughts  somewhat 

'  See  the  many  Addisou  articles  upon  these  points. 
^  Bacon's  voyage  of  the  New  Atlantis  opens,  let  it  be  remembered, 
with  its  vessel  headed  for  China  and  Japan. 


THE   STORY    OF   MY    LIFE.  371 

into  relation  with  Bacon's  New  Atlantis.  As  seen  in  onr 
Introduction,  cliapter  5  of  these  Serious  Reflections  is 
devoted  to  the  subject  of  the  Divine  Providence  ;  while 
chapter  6,  to  which  we  next  turn,  is  devoted  to  a  compari- 
son between  the  Christian  and  pagan  world.'  Bacon's 
desire  to  see  a  union  of  all  Christian  princes  to  wipe  out 
paganism  has  already  been  alluded  to  in  connection  witli 
his  fragment  touching  a  holy  war  against  the  Turks.  In 
connection  with  this  thought,  we  from  chapter  6,  p.  G8, 
quote  as  follows  : 

"  But  this  is  all  a  digression  ;  I  come  to  my  calculation. 
It  is  true  that  the  Spaniards,  whom  I  allow  to  be  Chris- 
tians, have  possessed  the  empires  of  Mexico  and  Peru  ;  but 
after  all  the  havoc  they  made,  and  the  millions  of  souls 
they  dismissed  out  of  life  there,  yet  the  natives  are  in- 
finitely the  majority  of  the  inhabitants  ;  and  though 
many  of  them  are  Christianized,  they  are  little  more  than 
subjected  ;  and  take  all  the  Spaniards,  Christians,  and  all 
of  the  Portuguese  in  the  Brazils,  all  the  English  and 
French  in  the  North,  and  in  a  word,  all  the  Christians  in 
America,  and  put  them  together,  they  will  not  balance 
one  part  of  the  pagans  or  Mahomedans  in  Europe  ;  for 
example,  take  the  Crim  Tartars  of  Europe,  who  inhabit 
the  banks  of  the  Euxine  Sea,''  they  are  more  in  number 
than  all  the  Christians  in  America  ;  so  that  setting  one 
nation  against  the  other,  and  you  may  reckon  that  there  is 
not  one  Christian,  or  as  if  there  were  not  one  Christian, 
in  those  three  parts  of  the  world,  Asia,  Africa,  and 
America,  except  the  Greeks  of  Asia. 

"  This  is  a  just  but  a  very  sad  account  of  the  extent  of 
Christian  knowledge  in  the  world  ;  and  were  it  considered 
as  it  ought,  would  put  the  most  powerful  princes  of  Europe 
upon  thinking  of  some  methods,  at  least,  to  open  a  way 
for  the  spreading  of  Christian  knowledge.  I  am  not  much 
of  the  opinion,  indeed,  that  religion  should  be  planted  by 
the  sword  ;  but  as  the  Christian  princes  of  Europe,  how- 
ever few  in  number,  are  yet  so  superior  to  all  the  rest  of 
the  world  in  martial  experience  and  the  art  of  war,  nothing 

'  This  chapter  should  be  read  in  connection  with  the  different 
subdivisions  of  the  last  chapter  of  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  and 
we  "Will  be  made  to  realize  that  they  are  by  one  and  the  same  author. 

-  See  Euxine  Sea  mentioned  in  our  quotation  from  the  Anatomy 
of  Melancholy,  p.  21. 


372  THE    STORY    OF    MY    LIFE. 

is  more  certain  than  that,  if  they  would  unite  their  inter- 
est, they  are  able  to  beat  paganism  out  of  the  Avorld. 
Nothing  is  more  certain  than  this,  that  would  the  Chris- 
tian princes  unite  their  powers  and  act  in  concert,  they 
might  destroy  the  Turkish  Empire  and  the  Persian  King- 
dom, and  beat  the  very  name  of  Mahomet  out  of  the 
world.' 

"  It  is  no  boast  to  say,  that,  were  there  no  intestine  broils 
among  us,  the  Christian  soldiery  is  so  evidently  superior 
to  the  Turkish  at  this  time,  that  had  they  all  joined  after 
the  late  battle  at  Belgrade  to  have  sent  80,000  veteran 
soldiers  to  have  joined  Prince  Eugene,"  and  supplied  him 
with  money  and  provisions  by  the  ports  of  the  Adriatic 
Culf  and  the  Archipelago,  that  prince  would  in  two  or 
three  campaigns  have  driven  the  Mahomedans  out  of 
Europe,  taken  Constantinople,  and  have  overturned  the 
Turkish  Empire. 

"  After  such  a  conquest,  whither  might  not  the  Chris- 
tian religion  have  spread  ?  The  King  of  Spain  with  the 
same  ease  would  reduce  the  Moors  of  Barbary,  and  dis- 
possess those  sons  of  hell,  the  Algerines,  Tripolines,  Tuni- 
zens,  and  all  the  Mahomedan  pirates  of  that  coast,  and 
plant  again  the  ancient  churches  of  Africa^ — the  sees  of 
Tertullian,  St.  Cyprian,  etc. 

"  Nay,  even  the  Czar  of  Muscovy,  an  enterprising  and 
glorious  prince,  well  assisted  and  supported  by  his  neigh- 
bors, the  northern  powers,  who  together  are  masters  of 
the  best  soldiery  in  the  world,  would  not  find  it  impossible 
to  march  an  army  of  36,000  foot  and  16,000  horse,  in 
spite  of  waste  and  inhospitable  deserts,  even  to  attack  the 
Chinese  Empire,  who,  notwithstanding  their  infinite  num- 

'  This  is  distinctly  what  Bacon  sought,  as  may  be  seen  in  his  frag- 
ment entitled  "An  Advertisement  Touching  a  Holy  War."  And 
please  see,  at  p.  250,  what  lie  wonld  have  had  inserted  in  the  marriftge 
treaty  of  Prince  Charles.  And  was  not  this  that  to  which  he  alludes 
as  principle  in  his  intention  in  his  already  quoted  prayer  at  p.  379  ? 

^  There  are  but  few  interpolations  in  this  work,  and  they  exist  only 
where  necessary  to  conform  it  to  the  times.  Here  is,  we  tliink,  one 
of  them.  The  statement  as  to  Prince  Eugene  is  doubtless  a  subsli- 
tule  for  what  was  originally  written,  and  which  may  have  concerned 
the  Prince  Palatine,  Frederick  the  Fifth,  who,  as  we  have  seen, 
became  in  1615  tiie  head  of  the  Protestant  union  of  German  ijrinces. 

3  It  will  be  remembered  that  in  the  play  of  The  Tempest  the  king's 
daughter  is  said  to  have  been  wedded  to  an  African.  See  also  the 
allusion  as  to  Tunis  and  Algiers. 


THE    STORY   OF   MY    LIFE.  373 

bers,  pretended  policy,  and  great  skill  in  war,  would  sink 
in  the  operation  ;  and  such  an  army  of  disciplined  Euro- 
pean soldiers  would  beat  all  the  forces  of  that  vast  empire 
with  the  same  or  greater  ease  as  Alexander  with  30,000 
Macedonians  destroyed  the  army  of  Darius,  which  con- 
sisted of  680,000  men." 

And  on  p.  69  we  have  : 

*'  Why,  then,  should  not  the  Christian  princes  think  it 
a  deed  of  compassion  to  the  souls  of  men,  as  well  as  an 
humble  agency  to  the  work  of  Providence,  and  to  the  ful- 
filling the  promises  of  their  Saviour,  by  a  moderate  and 
as  far  as  in  them  lies,  a  bloodless  conquest,  to  reduce  the 
whole  world  to  the  government  of  Christian  power,  and 
so  plant  the  name  and  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  among 
the  heathens  and  Mahomedans  ?  I  am  not  supposing 
that  they  can  plant  real  religion  in  this  manner  ;  the 
business  of  power  is  to  open  the  way  to  the  Gospel  of 
peace  ;  the  servants  of  the  king  of  the  earth  are  to  light, 
that  the  servants  of  the  King  of  heaven  may  preach.' 

"  Let  but  an  open  door  be  made  for  the  preaching  of 
the  Word  of  (lod,  and  the  ministers  of  Christ  be  admitted, 
if  they  do  not  spread  Christian  knowledge  over  the  face 
of  the" earth  the  fault  will  be  theirs.  Let  but  the  military 
power  reduce  the  pagan  world,  and  banish  the  devil  and 
Mahomet  from  the  face  of  the  earth,  the  knowledge  of 
God  be  diligently  spread,  the  Word  of  God  duly  preached, 
and  the  people  meekly  and  faithfully  instructed  in  the 
Christian  religion,  the  world  would  soon  receive  the  truth, 
and  the  knowledge  of  divine  things  would  be  the  study 
and  delight  of  mankind." 

And  same  page  we  have  : 

"  I  distinguish  between  forcing  religion  upon  people, 
or  forcing  them  to  entertain  this  or  that  opinion  of  re- 

'  And  the  king  in  the  play  of  Henry  V.,  Act  v.,  sc.  2,  p.  583.  is 
made  to  say  :  "  Shall  not  thou  and  I,  between  St.  Dennis  and  St. 
George,  compound  a  boy,  half  French,  half  English,  that  shall  go  to 
Constantinople,  and  take  the  Turk  by  the  beard  ?  shall  we  not  ? 
what  say'st  thou,  my  fair  tiower-de-luce  ?"  The  use  of  "  high  non- 
sense" in  the  plays  and  elsewhere  in  this  literature  in  the  attainment 
of  ends  will  be  later  touched  upon.  As  to  the  tiowerde-luce,  see  p. 
61.  Bacon  reports  one  as  saying  that  "  the  liowcr-deluces  of  France 
cannot  descend  neither  to  distaff  nor  spade  :  that  is,  not  to  a  woman 
nor  to  a  peasant."  (Literary  Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  151.)  He  also 
mentions  it  in  his  Natural  History  and  again  in  connection  with 
beautifying  of  his  grounds.    As  to  the  play  of  Henry  V.,  see  p.  341. 


374  THE    STORY    OF   MY    LIFE. 

ligion — I  say,  I  distinguish  between  that  and  opening  the 
door  for  religion  to  come  among  them.  The  former  is  a 
violence,  indeed,  inconsistent  with  the  nature  of  religion 
itself,  whose  energy  prevails  and  forces  its  way  into  the 
minds  of  men  by  another  sort  of  power  ;  whereas  the  latter 
is  removing  a  force  unjustly  put  already  upon  the  minds 
of  men,  by  the  artifice  of  the  devil,  to  keep  the  Christian 
religion  out  of  the  world  ;'  so  that,  indeed,  I  propose  a 
war  not  with  men,  but  with  the  devil — a  war  to  depose 
Satan's  infernal  tyranny  in  the  world  and  set  open  the 
doors  to  religion,  that  it  may  enter  if  men  will  receive  it ; 
if  they  will  not  receive  it,  bo  that  to  themselves. 

"  In  a  word,  to  unchain  the  wills  of  men,  set  their  in- 
clinations free,  that  their  reason  may  be  at  liberty  to  in- 
fluence their  understandings,  and  that  they  may  have  the 
faith  of  Christ  preached  to  them,  whether  they  will  hear 
or  forbear,  I  say,  as  above,  is  no  part  of  the  question  ;  let 
the  Christian  doctrine  and  its  spiritual  enemies  alone  to 
struggle  about  that.  I  am  for  dealing  with  the  temporal- 
ities of  the  devil,'^  and  deposing  that  human  power  which 
is  armed  in  the  behalf  of  the  obstinate  ignorance,  and 
resolute  to  keep  out  the  light  of  religion  from  the  mind.* 

"  1  think  this  is  a  lawful  and  just  war,  and,  in  the  end, 
kind  both  to  them  and  their  posterity  :  let  me  bring  the 
case  home  to  ourselves. 

"  Suppose  neither  Julius  Cffisar  nor  any  of  the  Roman 

'  In  the  Defoe  "  History  of  the  Devil"  this  is  the  ruling  idea  as  to 
the  devil's  work. 

'  See  in  this  connection  Defoe's  History  of  the  Devil,  Bolm  cd., 
beginning  at  p.  288.  Here  we  find  the  "  Diabolus"  of  Banyan's 
Holy  War  mentioned.  As  to  the  castle  of  the  soul  and  its  defence 
by  the  faculties  of  the  mind  as  a  garrison,  see  pp.  443,  548,  and  568. 
Bacon's  Promus,  1137.  The  eye  is  the  gate  of  the  affection,  but  the 
ear  of  the  understanding.  And  in  the  Banyan  work  we  have  : 
"  The  names  of  the  Gates  were  these,  Ear-gate,  Eye-gate,  Mouth- 
gate,  Nose-gate,  and  F<?el-gate. "  In  the  plays  we  have  "  the  gates 
of  love,"  "the  gates  and  alleys  of  the  body,"  etc.  In  All's  Well 
that  Ends  Well,  Act  iv.,  sc.  5,  p.  367,  we  have  :  "I  am  for  the 
house  with  the  narrow  gate,  which  I  take  too  little  for  pomp  to 
enter  :  some  that  hamble  themselves  may  ;  but  many  will  be  too 
ciiili  and  tender,  and  they'll  be  for  the  flowery  way,  that  leads  to 
the  broad  gate  and  the  great  fire."  As  to  the  word  "gates, "see 
Addison,  vol.  ii.,  p.  133,  and  vol.  iii.,  .p.  233,  and  The  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  pp.  77  and  82. 

^  See  pp.  32  and  23  the  ends  sought  to  be  attained  by  means  of  the 
New  Atlantis. 


THE   STORY   OF   MY   LIFE.  375 

generals  or  emperors  had  cast  their  eyes  toward  Britain 
for  some  ages,  or  till  the  Christian  religion  had  spread 
over  the  whole  Eoman  empire, — 'tis  true  the  Britons 
might  at  last  have  received  the  Christian  faith  in  common 
with  the  rest  of  the  northern  world,  but  tliey  had  yet  lain 
above  three  hundred  years  longer  in  ignorance  and  pagan- 
ism than  they  did  ;  and  some  hundred  thousands  of  people 
who  proved  zealous  Christians,  nay,  even  martyrs  for  the 
Christian  doctrine,  would  have  died  in  the  professed 
paganism  of  the  Britons. 

"  Now  'tis  evident  the  invasion  of  the  Romans  was  an 
unjust,  bloody,  tyrannical  assault  upon  the  poor  Britons, 
against  all  right  and  property,  against  justice  and  neigh- 
borhood, and  merely  carried  on  for  conquest  and  domin- 
ion. Nor  indeed  had  the  Romans  any  just  pretence  of 
war  ;  yet  God  was  pleased  to  make  this  violence  be'  the 
kindest  thing  that  could  have  befallen  the  British  nation, 
since  it  brought  in  the  knowledge  of  God  among  the 
Britons,  and  was  the  means  of  reducing  a  heathen  and 
barbarous  nation  to  the  faith  of  Christ,  and  to  embrace 
the  Messias. 

"  Thus  heaven  serves  itself  of  men's  worst  designs,  and 
the  avarice,  ambition,  and  rage  of  men  have  been  made  use 
of  to  bring  to  pass  the  glorious  ends  of  Providence,  without 
the  least  knowledge  or  design  of  the  actors.  Why,  then, 
may  not  the  great  undertakings  of  the  princes  of  Europe,  if 
they  could  be  brought  to  act  in  concert,  with  a  good  design 
to  bring  all  the  world  to  open  their  doors  to  the  Christian 
religion,  and  by  consequence  their  ears, — I  say,  why  may 
not  such  an  attempt  be  blessed  from  heaven  with  so  much 
success,  at  least  as  to  make  way  for  bringing  in  nominal 
Christianity  among  the  nations?  For  as  to  obliging  the 
people  to  be  of  this  or  that  opinion  afterward,  that  is 
another  case."  " 

And  on  p.  71  we  have  : 

"  I  have  lived  to  see  men  of  the  best  light  be  mistaken, 
as  well  in  party  as  in  principle,  as  well  in  politics  as  in 
religion,  and  find  not  only  occasion,  but  even  a  necessity 
to  change  hands  or  sides  in  both  ;  I  have  seen  them  some- 

1  This  use  of  the  word  "be"  is  Baconian.  Promus,  957.  We  be, 
but  where  we  were.     And  see  p.  223 

'■^  To  the  use  of  tlie  word  "  case"  througliout  these  writings,  and 
in  exclusion  of  synonymous  words,  we  have  already  called  attention. 


376  THE    STORY    OF    MY    LIFE. 

times  run  into  contrary  extremes,  beyond  their  first  inten- 
tion, and  even  without  design  ;  nay,  in  those  unhappy 
changes  I  have  seen  them  driven  into  lengths  they  never 
designed,  by  the  fiery  resentment  of  those  whom  they 
seemed  to  have  left,  and  whom  they  differed  from.  I 
have  lived  to  see  those  men  acknowledge,  even  publicly 
and  openly,  they  were  wrong  and  mistaken,  and  express 
their  regret  for  being  misled  very  sincerely  ;  but  I  cannot 
say  I  have  lived  to  see  the  people  they  have  desired  to  re- 
turn to  forgive  or  receive  them.  Perhaps  the  age  I  have 
lived  in  has  not  been  a  proper  season  for  charity  ;  I  hope 
futurity  will  be  furnished  with  better  Christians,  or  per- 
haps 'tis  appointed  so  to  illustrate  the  Divine  mercy,  and 
let  mankind  see  that  they  are  the  only  creatures  that 
never  forgive.  I  have  seen  a  man  in  the  case  I  speak  of, 
offer  the  most  sincere  acknowledgments  of  his  having 
been  mistaken,  and  this  not  in  matters  essential  either  to 
the  person's  morals  or  Christianity,  but  only  in  matters  of 
party,  and  with  the  most  moving  expressions  desire  his 
old  friends  to  forgive  what  has  been  passed  ;  and  have 
seen  their  return,  be  mocking  him  with  what  they  called 
a  baseness  of  spirit,  and  a  mean  submission  ;  I  have  seen 
him  expostulate  with  them,  why  they  should  not  act  upon 
the  same  terms  with  a  penitent,'  as  God  himself  not  only 
prescribed,  but  yields  to  ;  and  have  seen  them  in  return, 
tell  him  God  might  forgive  him  if  he  pleased,  but  they 
would  never,  and  then  expose  all  those  offers  to  the  first- 
comer  in  banter  and  ridicule  :  but  take  me  right  too,  I 
have  seen  at  the  same  time,  that  to  wiser  men  it  has  been 
always  thought  to  be  an  exposing  themselves,  and  an 
honor  to  the  person. 

"  I  speak  this  too  feelingly,  and  therefore  say  no  more  ; 
there  is  a  way  by  patience,  to  conquer  even  the  universal 
contempt  of  mankind  ;  and  though  two  drams  of  that 
drug  be  a  vomit'  for  a  dog,  it  is  in  my  experience  the  only 

'  We  have  already  noted  this  Avord  "penitent"  as  Bacon's  word 
for  this  place,  and  it  will  be  found  throughout  these  writings.  See 
p.  20. 

_  ^  Bacon  ever  used  the  words  vomit  and  purge,  and  they,  in  exclu- 
sion of  other  words,  will  be  found  throughout  these  writings.  In 
Sul).  36  of  Bacon's  Natural  History  we  have  :  "The  first  Ts,  that 
whatsoever  cannot  be  overcome  and  digested  by  the  stomacli,  is  by 
tlie  stojiiacii  cillier  put  up  by  vomit,  or  put  down  by  the  guts  ;  and 
by  that  motion  of  expulsion  in  the  stomach  and  guis,  other  parts  of 


THE   STORY   OF    MY    LIFE.  377 

method— there  is  a  secret  peace  in  it,  and  in  time  the  rage 
of  men  will  abate,  a  constant,  steady  adhering  to  virtue 
and  honesty,  and  showing  the  world  that  whatever  mis- 
takes he  might  be  led  into,  supposing  them  to  be  mistakes, 
that  yet  the  main  intention  and  design  of  his  life  was  sin- 
cere and  upright  :'  he  that  governs  the  actions  of  men  by 
an  unbiassed  hand,  will  never  suffer  such  a  man  to  sink 
under  the  weight  of  universal  prejudice  and  clamour. 

"  I,  Robinson  Crusoe,  grown  old  in  affliction,  borne 
down  by  calumny  and  reproach,  but  supported  from 
within,  boldly  prescribe  this  remedy  against  universal 
clamours  and  contempt  of  mankind, — patience,  a  steady 
life  of  virtue  and  sobriety,  and  a  comforting  dependence 
on  the  justice  of  Providence,  will  first  or  last  restore  the 
patient  to  the  opinion  of  his  friends,  and  justify  him  in 
the  face  of  his  enemies  ;  and  in  the  mean  time,  will  sup- 
port him  comfortably  in  despising  those  who  want  man- 
ners and  charity,  and  leave  them  to  be  cursed  from  heaven 
with  their  own  jiassions  and  rage."" 

Leaving  now  for  the  reader's  reflection  the  question  as 
to  whether  Bacon's  troubles  and  life  aims  are  somewhat 
reflected  in  these  quotations,  we  turn  to  the  New  Atlantis, 
the  language  framework  of  which,  and  especially  in  its 

the  body  (as  the  orifices  of  the  veins,  and  the  like)  are  moved  to 
expel  by  consent. " 

'  See  "Sonnet  70. 

'  The  preface  to  Penn's  Maxims,  entitled  "  Fruits  of  Solitude,  in 
Reflections  and  Maxims  Relating  to  the  Conduct  of  Human  Life," 
opens  in  these  words  :  "  Reader, — Tliis  manual  I  present  thee  witli 
is  the  fruit  of  solitude,  a  school  few  care  to  leain  in,  though  none 
instruct  us  better.  Some  parts  of  it  are  the  result  of  seiious  reflec- 
tioiia  ;  others,  the  flashings  of  lucid  intervals  ;  written  for  private 
satisfaction,  and  now  publi-shed  for  a  help  to  human  conduct." 
See  p.  368,  the  allusion  to  Confucius's  Maxims.  It  was  Bacon's  labor  to 
show  that  as  much  could  come  out  of  Christian  as  out  of  heathen  pens. 
See  p.  258.'  Penn's  Maxims  should  be  read  in  connection  with  the 
Serious  Reflections,  and  with  Bacon's  Essays,  for  later  we  may  wish 
the  reader  to  ask  himself  the  question.  Who  was  their  author  V  The 
word  "  fruit"  as  liere  used  is  Baconian.  Bacon,  in  speaking  of  the 
Roman  emperors  following  Domitian,  says  :  "  Thus  in  the  succession 
of  these  six  princes,  we  may  witness  the'^happy  fruits  of  learning  in 
sovereigntv  painted  in  the  great  table  of  the  world. "  (De  Augmentis, 
Book  1,  Bohu  ed.,  p.  61.)  We  also  find  him  using  such  expres.sious 
as  "  fruit  of  conference,"  "  fruit  of  speech,"  "  some  fruit  of  my  pri- 
vate life,"  etc.  In  the  plays  we  have  "  the  fruits  of  my  advice," 
"  fruits  of  duty,"  etc. 


378  THE    STORY   OF   MY   LIFE. 

early  pages,  is  so  at  one  with  the  story  itself  of  Crusoe, 
us  to  be  ia  all  thinos  identical,  though  it  is  the  only  piece 
of  like  writing  with  which  Lord  Bacon's  name  has  become 
associated.  Concerning  it  Mr.  Spedding,  in  Bacon's  Philo- 
sophical Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  123,  says  :  "  Perhaps  there  is 
no  single  work  of  his  which  has  so  much  of  himself  in 
it." 

He  also  says  : 

"  The  description  of  Solomon's  House  is  the  description 
of  the  vision  in  which  he  lived, — the  vision  not  of  an  ideal 
world  released  from  the  natural  conditions  of  which  ours 
is  subject,  but  of  our  own  world  as  it  might  be  made  if 
we  did  our  duty  by  it ;  of  a  state  of  tilings  wliich  he  be- 
lieved would  one  day  be  actually  seen  upon  this  earth, 
such  as  it  is,  by  men  such  as  we  are  ;  and  the  coming  of 
which  he  believed  that  his  own  labors  were  sensibly  hasten- 
ing. The  account  of  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
people  of  Bensalem  is  an  account  of  his  own  taste  in 
humanity  ;  for  a  man's  ideal,  though  not  necessarily  a 
description  of  what  he  is,  is  almost  always  an  indication 
of  what  he  would  be  ;  and  in  the  sober  pioty,  the  serious 
cheerfulness,  the  tender  and  gracious  courtesy,  the  open- 
handed  hospitality,  the  fidelity  in  public  and  chastity  in 
jn-ivate  life,  the  grave  and  graceful  manners,'  the  order, 
decency,  and  earnest  industry,  which  prevailed  among 
these  people,  we  recognize  an  image  of  himself  made  per- 
fect,— of  that  condition  of  the  human  soul  which  he  loved 
in  others  and  aspired  towards  in  himself.    Even  the  dresses, 

*  It  Is  said  that  prior  to  1594,  at  which  time  Bacon's  Proraus  Notes 
began,  forms  of  morning  and  evening  salutation  were  not  used  in 
England.  In  those  notes  and  spread  throughout  the  plays  we  have 
not  only  the  following,  but  others.  Promus,  1195.  Good-day  to 
me  and  good-morrow  to  you.  Promus,  1193.  Good  betimes,  bonum 
inane.     Promus,  1192.     Good  matens.     (From  Bon  matin.) 

"  The  glow-worm  shows  the  matin  to  be  near, 
And  'gins  to  pale  his  uneffectual  fire  : 
Adieu,  adieu  !     Hamlet,  remember  me." 

— Hamlet,  Act  i.,  sc.  5,  p.  234. 
Promus,  1189.     Good-morrow. 

"  Young  son,  it  argues  a  distempered  head 
So  soon  to  bid  good-morrow  to  thy  bed." 

— Rome  and  Juliet,  Act  ii.  sc.  8. 

And  so  may  we  again  call  into  relation  our  Head-light  :  "  For  I  have 
taken  all  knowledge  to  be  my  providence." 


THE   STORY    OF   MY    LIFE.  379 

the  household  arrangements,  the  order  of  their  feasts  and 
solemnities,  their  very  gestures  of  welcome  and  salutation, 
have  an  interest  and  significance  independent  of  the  fiction, 
as  so  many  records  of  Bacon's  personal  taste  in  such  mat- 
ters. Nor  ought  the  stories  which  the  Governor  of  the 
House  of  Strangers  tells  about  the  state  of  navigation  and 
l)opulation  in  the  early  post-diluvian  ages,  to  be  regarded 
merely  as  romances  invented  to  vary  and  enrich  the  narra- 
tiv^e,  but  rather  as  belonging  to  a  class  of  serious  specula- 
tions to  which  Bacon's  mind  was  prone.  As  in  his  visions 
of  the  future,  embodied  in  the  achievements  of  Solomon's 
House,  there  is  nothing  which  he  did  not  conceive  to  be 
really  practicable  by  the  means  which  he  supposes  to  be 
used  ;  so  in  his  speculations  concerning  the  past,  embodied 
in  the  traditions  of  Bensalem,  I  doubt  whether  there  be 
any  (setting  aside,  of  course,  the  particular  history  of  the 
fabulous  island)  which  he  did  not  believe  to  be  historically 
probable." 

The  scene  in  the  New  Atlantis,  as  well  as  in  Crusoe  and 
The  Tempest,  is  located,  let  it  be  noted,  first  in  a  boat  at 
sea  and  then  upon  an  island  ;  and  which  works  we  have 
undertaken  to  show  as  products  of  one  and  the  same  mind, 
as  stated  in  our  Introduction  to  this  work. 

The  New  Atlantis  is  supposed  to  have  been  written  in 
1C24,  and  Mr.  Spedding  thinks  still  earlier.  Bacon  de- 
signed it  to  follow  his  Sylva  Sylvarum  ;  or,  Natural  History, 
and  it  was  in  this  order  Hrst  published  by  Dr.  Rawley  in 
1637,  the  year  following  Bacon's  supposed  death.  It  is  a 
kind  of  voyage  to  that  end,  of  which  the  Natural  History 
was  the  beginning.  The  selected  particulars  of  knowl- 
edge as  set  out  in  it  constitute  the  nucleus  for  the  fram- 
ing of  his  tables.'  By  its  methods  only  can  the  sense 
properly  inform  the  understanding,  as  he  thought.  When 
thus  pursued  as  a  system,  he  says  :  "  And  then  shall  we 
be  no  longer  kept  dancing  within  little  rings,  like  persons 
bewitched,  but  our  range  and  circuit  will  be  as  wide  as 
the  compass  of  the  world."  This  growing  Natural  His- 
tory carried  forward  under  his  methods,  by  those  that 
should  come  after  him,  it  serving  but  as  a  pattern  or  be- 

'  And  these  tables  he  applied  as  well  to  mental  as  to  material 
change,  as  we  have  seen.  As  with  his  views  "  putrefaction  is 
the  bastard  brother  of  vivicatiou,"  so  note  the  bastard  brothers  of 
the  plays. 


^80  THE   STORY    OF   MY    LIFE.  ' 

ginning,  was  to  be  the  widening  influence  in  human  idea- 
tion.' Was  there  fault  in  the  method  ?  or  did  the  Aveak- 
ness  lie  in  the  race  to  follow  it?  But  Mr.  Spedding  says 
that  the  same  may  be  accomplished  by  easier  processes. 
Much,  indeed,  may  be  so  accomplished,  but  not,  we  think, 
the  same.  These  processes  would  bring  influences  per- 
manently widening. 

Mr.  Spedding,  however,  says  :  "  He  delivered  a  set  of 
cautions  as  to  the  use  of  the  human  understanding,  ap- 
plicable to  the  pursuit  of  truth  in  all  departments,  which 
have  scarcely  been  added  to  or  improved  upon  since  his 
time." 

It  should  be  understood  that  Bacon  did  not  expect  the 
race,  as  such,  to  follow  his  methods.  He,  in  fact,  says 
that  the  masses  have  neither  the  opportunity  nor  the 
ability  to  follow  these  subtleties.  The  New  Atlantis  is 
indeed  a  most  comprehensive  scheme,  to  form  an  organiza- 
tion or  society,  whose  dealt-out  influences  upon  the  race 
should  be  permanent  in  growth,  its  attained  knowledge 
ending  not  with  the  life  of  its  members  —a  society  for 
overcoming  errors  and  difficulties,  both  physical  and  in- 
fluential ;  or,  in  other  words,  both  physical  and  political. 

But  Bacon's  political  influence  having  been  ruined,  by 
the  ruin  of  his  name,  he  turned  more  for  fruit,  so  far  as 
now  appears,  to  the  line  of  philosophy,  though  what  he 
did  politically  will,  if  our  views  be  correct,  be  seen  further 
on.  He,  indeed,  opens  ch.  3  of  Book  8  of  the  De  Aug- 
mentis,  issued  in  1G23,  in  these  words  :  "  We  come  now 
to  the  art  of  empire,  or  the  doctrine  of  governing  a  state, 
which  includes  economics,  as  a  city  includes  a  family. 
But  here,  according  to  my  former  resolution,  I  impose 
silence  upon  myself;  how  well  qualified  soever  I  might 
seem  to  treat  the  subject,  from  the  constant  course  of  life, 
studies,  employs,  and  the  public  posts  I  have,  for  a  long 
series  of  years,  sustained,  even  to  the  highest  in  the  king- 
dom, which,  through  his  majesty's  favor,  and  no  merit  of 
my  own,  1  held  for  four  years.     And  this  I  speak  to  pos- 

'  Of  it  he  says  :  "  For  I  want  this  primary  history  to  be  composed 
Avitli  a  most  rolii^ious  care,  as  if  every  jiaiticular  were  stated  upon 
oath  ;  seeing  tliat  it  is  the  book  of  God's  works,  and  (so  far  as  the 
majesty  of  heavenly  may  be  compared  with  tlie  liumbleness  of 
carl  illy  things)  a  kind  of  second  IScriplure."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv., 
p.  201.     And  see  note  1,  p.  41.) 


THE    STORY    OF    MY    LIFE.  381 

terity,  not  out  of  ostentation  ;  but  because  I  judge  it  may 
somewhat  impart  the  dignity  of  learning,  to  have  a  man 
born  for  letters  rather  than  anything  else,  who  should,  by 
a  certain  fatality,  and  against  the  bent  of  his  genius,  be 
compelled  into  active  life,  and  yet  be  raised  by  a  prudent 
king,  to  the  greatest  posts'  of  honor,  trust,  and  civil  em- 
ploy. And  if  I  should  hereafter  have  leisure  to  write  upon 
government,  the  work  will  probably  either  be  i^osthumous 
or  abortive."  ^ 

Hazlitt,  in  his  preface  to  the  works  of  Defoe,  among 
other  things  says  :  "  Defoe  was  a  giant  in  literature  : 
there  is  no  English  author  who  has  written  so  variously, 
and  few  who  have  written  so  well.  It  is  diflicult  to  imag- 
ine a  subject  Avhich  has  not  been  illustrated  by  his  graceful 
and  powerful  pen.  There  is  no  class  of  readers  to  whom 
ho  does  not  successfully  address  himself.  Though  known, 
until  of  very  late  years,  almost  entirely  as  a  writer  of  fic- 
tion, which  will  probably  constitute  the  basis  of  his  fame 
in  succeeding  times,  it  was  for  politics  chiefly  that  he 
acquired  distinction  with  his  contemporaries,  who  bore  wit- 
ness to  the  influence  of  his  writings." 

lie  also  says  "  that  no  man  who  sits  down  to  study  the 
history  of  his  country  with  minute  exactness,  can  hope 
for  satisfaction  upon  a  variety  of  points,  without  a  pre- 
vious ac(iuaintance  with  the  writings  of  Defoe." 

The  New  Atlantis  is  divided  into  twelve  heads  and  one 
concealed,  and  its  employments  were  as  follows  f 

"  For  the  several  employments  and  oflices  of  our  fel- 
lows •*  we  have  twelve  that  sail  into  foreign  countries, 
under  the  names  of  other  nations  (for  our  own  we  con- 
ceal) ;    who  bring  us  the  books,  and  abstracts,  and  pat- 

'  As  to  the  posts  of  honor  and  the  pilgrimage  of  life,  see  Addison, 
vol.  iii.,  pp.  98-102.  Pionius,  508.  As  far  goeth  the  pilgrim  as  the 
post. 

-  This  last  sentence  shows  a  distinct  intention  of  reserving  the 
piiblicatiou  of  any  papers  upon  political  issues  until  after  his  deatli. 

^  Note  in  the  New  Atlantis  the  mention  of  the  Upper,  Middle,  and 
Lower  regions,  called  under  review  in  earlier  pages. 

■*  Let  the  word  "  fellows"  as  used  in  the  New  Atlantis,  in  Shake- 
speare, in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  and,  in  fact,  in  all  of  the  works 
under  review  be  called  into  distinct  relation.  In  The  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  at  p.  180,  we  have  :  "  So  Hopeful,  being  persuaded  by 
his  fellow,  went  after  him  over  the  stile."  Piomus,  681.  You 
would  be  over  the  stile  befoie  you  come  at  it. 


382  THE    STORY    OF    MY   LIFE. 

terns  of  experiments  of  all  other  parts.  These  we  call 
Merchants  of  Light. 

"  We  have  three  that  collect  the  experiments  which  are 
in  all  books.     These  we  call  Depredators. 

"  We  have  three  that  collect  the  experiments  of  all 
mechanical  arts  ;  and  also  of  liberal  sciences  ;  and  also  of 
pratjtices  which  are  not  brought  into  arts.  These  we  call 
Mysterj-men. 

^'  We  have  three  that  try  new  experiments,  such  as 
themselves  think  good.'  These  we  call  Pioneers  or 
Miners. 

"  We  have  three  that  draw  the  experiments  of  the  former 
four  into  titles  and  tables,  to  give  the  better  light  for  the 
drawing  of  observations  and  axioms  out  of  them.  These 
we  call  Compilers. 

"  We  have  three  that  hemV  themselves,  looking  into  the 
experiments  of  their  fellows,  and  cast  about  how  to  draw 
out  of  them  things  of  use  and  practice  for  men's  lives, 
and  knowledge  as  well  for  works  as  for  plain  demonstra- 
tion of  causes,  means  of  natural  divinations,'  and  the  easy 
and  clear  discovery  of  the  virtues  and  parts  of  bodies. 
These  we  call  Dowry-men  or  Benefactors. 

"  Then  after  diverse  meetings  and  consults  of  our  whole 
number,  to  consider  of  the  former  labors  and  collections, 
we  have  three  that  take  care,  out  of  them,  to  direct  new 
experiments,  of  a  higher  light,  more  penetrating  into 
nature  than  the  former.     These  we  call  Lamps. 

"  We  have  three  others  that  do  execute  the  experiments 
so  directed,  and  report  them.     These  we  call  Inoculators. 

"  Lastly,  we  have  three  that  raise  the  former  discoveries 
by  experiments  into  greater  observations,  axioms,  and 
aphorisms.     Tliese  we  call  Interpreters*  of  Nature. 

'  Note  throughout  these  writings  this  unusual  expression  "think 
good."     See  p.  156,  note  1. 

-  As  to  this  use  of  tliis  word  bend,  we  from  Hamlet,  Act  i.,  sc.  2, 
p.  210,  quote  as  follows  : 

"  And,  we  beseech  you,  bend  you  to  remain 
Here,  in  the  cheer  and  comfort  of  our  eye, 
Our  chiefest  courtier,  cousin,  and  our  son." 

*  Note  the  subject  of  natural  divination  as  treated  in  portions  of 
the  Defoe  literature. 

■•  Note  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  that  it  is  always  the  Interpreter 
that  presents  the  penitent  with  types  or  patterns  for  thought. 


THE   STORY    OF    MY    LIFE.  383 

"  We  have  also,  as  you  must  think,  novices  and  appren- 
tices, that  the  succession  of  the  former  employed  men  do 
not  fail  ;  besides  a  great  number  of  servants  and  atten- 
dants, men  and  women.  And  this  we  do  also  :  we  have 
consultations,  which  of  the  inventions  and  experiments 
which  we  have  discovered  shall  be  published,  and  which 
not  :  and  take  all  an  oath  of  secrecy,  for  the  concealing 
of  those  which  we  think  fit  to  keep  secret  ;  though  some 
of  those  we  do  reveal  sometimes  to  the  state,  and  some 
not." 

Here  follows  a  statement  concerning  the  formation  of 
statues  to  inventor,  after  which  we  have  :  "Lastly,  we 
have  circuits  or  visits  of  diverse  principal  cities  of  the 
kingdom  ;  where  as  it  cometh  to  pass,  we  do  publish  such 
new  profitable  inventions  as  we  think  good.  And  we  do 
also  declare  natural  divinations  of  diseases,  plagues,' 
swarms  of  hurtful  creatures,  scarcity,  tempests,  earth- 
quakes, great  inundations,  comets,  temperature  of  the 
year,  and  diverse  other  things  ;  and  we  give  counsel  there- 
ij^ion  what  the  people  shall  do  for  the  prevention  and 
remedy  of  them." 

And  at  the  end  of  the  work  we  have  :  "  God  bless  thee, 
my  son,  and  God  bless  this  relation  which  I  have  made. 
I  give  thee  leave  to  publish  it  for  the  good  of  other 
nations  ;  for  we  here  are  in  God's  bosom,  a  land  un- 
known." '' 

Let  it  be  now  noted  that  this  work  seems  as  if  a  rem- 
nant, or  as  if  broken  off,  from  some  other  piece  of  com- 
position.    It  opens  in  these  words  : 

"We  sailed  from  Peru  (where  we  had  continued  for 
the  space  of  one  whole  year),  for  China  and  Japan,  by  the 
South  Sea  ;  taking  with  us  victuals  for  twelve  months  ; 
and  had  good  winds  from  the  east,  though  soft  and  weak, 
for  five  months'  space  and  more.  But  then  the  winds 
came  about,  and  settled  in  the  west  for  many  days,  so  as 
Ave  could  make  little  or  no  way,  and  were  sometimes  in 
purpose  to  turn  ])ack.  But  then  again  there  arose  strong 
and  great  winds  from  the  south,  Avith  a  point  east  :  which 
carried  iis  up  (for  all  that  we  could  do)  toward  the  north  : 
by  which  time  our  victuals  failed  us,  though  we  had  made 
good  spare  of  them.     So   that  finding  ourselves  in  the 

'  See  Defoe's  History  of  the  Plague  in  London. 
2  Is  there  any  indication  here  of  secret  nietliods  ?_, 


384  THE   STORY    OF    MY    LIFE, 

midst  of  the  greatest  wilderness  of  waters  in  the  world, 
without  victuals,  we  gave  ourselves  for  lost  men,  and  pre- 
pared for  death.  Yet  we  did  lift  up  our  hearts  and  voices 
to  God  above,  who  slioweth  his  wonders  in  the  deep  ;  be- 
seeching him  of  liis  mercy,  that  as  in  the  beginning  he 
discovered  the  face  of  the  deep,  and  brought  forth  dry 
land,  so  he  would  now  discover  land  to  us,  that  we  might 
not  perish.  And  it  came  to  pass  that  the  next  day  about 
evening,  we  saw  witliin  a  kenning  before  us,  towards  the 
north,  as  it  were  thick  clouds  which  did  put  us  in  some 
hope  of  land  ;  knowing  how  that  part  of  the  South  Sea 
was  utterly  unknown  ;  and  might  have  islands  or  conti- 
nents, that  hitherto  were  not  come  to  light.'  Wherefore 
we  bent  our  course  thither,  where  we  saw  the  appearance 
of  land,  all  that  night  ;  and  in  the  dawning  of  the  next 
day,  we  might  plainly  discern  that  it  was  a  land  ;  flat  to 
our  sight,  and  full  of  boscage  ;  which  made  it  show  the 
more  dark." 

Already  have  we  alluded  to  Bacon's  secret  project  for 
revenue,  and  which  Mr.  Spedding  says  has  never  come  to 
light.  Later  we  shall  claim  to  tJie  reader  that  the  great 
South  Sea  scheme  for  revenue  of  the  Defoe  period  was  but 
an  attempt  by  Harley  to  re-enact  a  thwarted  Baconian 
sciieme.  South  Sea  discoveries,  even  in  the  plays,  are 
made  the  subject  of  comment.  In  As  You  Like  It,^  Act 
iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  201,  we  have  : 

"  Ros.  Good  my  complexion!  dost  thou  tliiuk,  though  I  am 
caparisoii'd  like  a  man,  I  have  a  doublet  and  hose  in  my  dis- 
position ?  One  inch  of  delay  more  is  a  South-sea  of  discovery.  I 
pr'ythee,  tell  me,  who  is  it  ?  quickly,  and  speak  apace  :^  I  would 
thou  couldst  stammer,  that  thou  might'st  pour  this  conceal'd  mau 

'  In  the  mentioned  private  notes  made  by  Bacon  in  1608  we  have  : 
"  Ordinary  discours  of  plus  ultra  in  Sciences,  as  well  the  intellec- 
tuall  globe  as  the  materiall  illustrated  by  discovery  in  o''  Age." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iv.,  p.  64.) 

''  Hudson  sa3's  :  "  Finally,  we  have  to  confess  that,  upon  the 
whole.  As  You  Like  It  is  our  favorite  of  Sliakespeare's  comedies  " 
He  furtlier  says  :  "  The  play  was  never  printed,  so  far  as  we  know, 
till  in  the  folio  of  1623."     See  p.  340,  note  1. 

^  The  word  "  apace"  is  a  distinctive  Baconian  word,  and  it  will  be 
found  in  every  phase  of  these  writings.  Bacon  in  Sub.  374  of  his 
Natural  History  says  :  "  We  see  that  if  wind  bloweth  upon  a  candle 
it  wasteth  apace."  Note  the  use  of  the  word  in  The  Pilgrim's 
Progress  at  pp.  107,  110,  238,  278.  And  on  p.  332  we  have  :  '"  The 
lion  came  on  apace  and  Mr.  Greatheart  addressed  himself  to  give 
him  battle."     In  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  434,  we  have  :  "  From  this 


THE    STORY    OF   MY    LIFE.  385 

out  of  thy  mouth,  as  wuie  comes  out  of  a  narrow-mouth 'd  bottle  ; 
either  too  much  at  once,  or  none  at  all.  I  pr'ythee,  take  the  cork 
out  of  thy  mouth,  that  I  may  drink'  thy  tidings." 

Let  it  be  investigated  as  to  whether  the  vojage  to  the 
South  Sea  described  in  Defoe's  "  New  Voyage  Round  the 
World,"  and  evidently  written  to  induce  colonization  and 
mining,  was  founded  upon  facts  gathered  from  some  of 
the  voyages  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  the  last  having  been 
made  in  1617."  In  the  Bohn  edition  of  the  work  the 
story  at  p.  324  is  said  there  to  be  broken  off  and  from 
that  point  begun  anew.'  Let  its  style  in  composition  be 
here  brougiit  into  relation  with  the  New  Atlantis.  And 
note  the  following  from  p.  331  : 

"  I  cannot  help  being  of  tlie  opinion,  let  the  map  makers 
place  them  where  they  will/  that  those  islands  where  we 
so  successfully  fished  for  oysters,  or  rather  for  pearl,  are 
the  same  which  the  ancient  geographers  have  called  Solo- 
mon's Islands  ;  and  though  they  are  so  far  south,  the 
riches  of  them  may  not  be  the  less,  nor  are  they  more  out 
of  the  way.  On  the  contrary,  they  lie  directly  in  the 
track  which  our  navigators  would  take,  if  they' thought 
fit,  either  to  go  or  come  between  Eurojoe  and  the  East 
Indies,  seeing  they  that  come  about  Cape  Horn  seldom  go 
less  south  than  the  latitude  of  63  or  64°  ;  and  these  islands, 
as  I  have  said,  lie  in  the  latitude  of  40  to  48°  south,  and 
extend  themselves  near  one  hundred  and  sixty  leagues  in 
breadth  from  north  to  south. 

time  tlie  armies  being  checkered  with  both  sexes,   they  polished 
apace." 

'  In  his  Essay  entitled  "  Of  Youth  and  Age"  Bacon  says  :  "  And 
certainly,  the  more  a  man  driuketh  of  the  world,  the  more  it  into.xi- 
c  iteth  :  and  age  doth  profit  rather  in  the  powers  of  understanding, 
than  in  the  virtues  of  the  will  and  affections."  And  see  p.  208' 
note  1. 

"^  But  also  see  in  this  connection,  in  the  Briiannica  article  on 
geography,  Drake's  voyage  round  the  world  and  the  discoveries 
generally  of  this  period. 

^  Before  the  breaking  off  of  the  story  it  Is  on  p.  323  said  :  "  And 
here  taking  an  observation,  I  found  we  were  in  latitude  of  50°  30', 
and  that  our  meridian  distance  from  the  Ladroues  west  was  87°', 
being  almost  one  semi-diameter  of  the  globe,  so  that  we  could  not 
be  far  from  the  coast  of  America,  wliich  was  my  next  design,  and 
indeed  the  chief  design  of  the  whole  voyage."  Beginning  at  p.  313, 
note  what  is  said  as  to  the  subject  of  trade.  The  second  part  of  the 
voyage  was  directed  to  Chili  and  Peru. 

■*  Note  in  all  these  writings  the  expression  "  where  they  will." 
1-3 


386  THE    STORY    OF   MY    LIFE, 

^'  Withoiit  doubt  these  islands  would  make  a  very 
noble'  settlement,  in  order  to  victual"  and  relieve  the 
Euroi)ean  merchants  in  so  long  a  run  as  they  have  to  make  ; 
and  when  this  trade  came  to  be  more  frequented,  the  call- 
ing of  these  ships  there  would  enrich  the  islands,  as  the 
English  at  St.  Helena  are  enriched  by  the  refreshing 
which  the  East  India  ships  find  that  meet  there."  ' 

Note  in  the  perusal  of  this  story  that  the  voyage  of  the 
New  Atlantis  opens  by  a  departvn-e  from  Peru. 

BiU!on  looked  upon  Raleigh  as  one  who  might  lend  aid 
in  the  Great  Instauration,  as  we  have  seen.  "While  still 
a  prisoner  of  the  Tower,  lie  claimed  to  have  knowledge 
concerning  a  mine  of  gold  and  silver,  one  of  great  wealth, 
and  for  purposes  of  I'cvenue  he  is  said  to  have  made  cer- 
tain proposals  touching  the  same,  first  to  the  Lord  Treas- 
uier,  Salisbury,  in  1G07,  to  Lord  Haddington  in  IGIO,  and 
to  the  Lords  of  the  Council  in  1611.  With  his  offer  in 
KilO  he  says  :  "  I  am  content  to  be  committed  to  others  ; 
and  setting  down  the  course  and  project  in  writing,  if  at 
any  time  1  persuade  the  contrary,  let  them  cast  me  into 
the  sea.  Secondly,  when  God  shall  permit  us  to  arrive, 
if  I  bring  them  not  to  a  mountain  (near  a  navigable  river) 
covered  with  gold  and  silver  ore,  let  the  commander  have 
commission  to  cut  off  my  head  there.  If  this  be  not  suffi- 
cient, I  will  presume  to  nominate  unto  his  M.  such  com- 
manders as  he  shall  like  of,  who  will  be  bound,  body  for 
body,  to  return  me  alive  or  dead.  And  if  I  have  mistaken 
myself  and  may  be  yet  of  more  price,  his  M.  shall  have 
forty  thousand  pounds  bounty  to  boot."  ^  See  these  facts. 
Bacon's  Letters,  vol,  vi.,  p.  343. 

'  We  here  again  have  wliat  may  be  called  Lord  Bacon's  most 
marked  word.    See  p.  54,  note  4. 

'^  Note  this  word  "  victual  "  in  the  New  Atlantis,  and  it  is  the 
word  for  this  place  found  in  all  of  the  works  under  review,  and  to  the 
exclusion  of  synonymous  words.  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  395, 
■we  have  :  "  Nor  was  there,  on  all  this  ground,  so  much  as  an  inn  or 
victualling  house  wherein  to  refresh  the  feehkr  sort." 

^  And  on  p.  355  it  is  said  ;  "  So  that,  in  short,  I  was  as  well  pleased 
without  lighting  as  they  could  be  ;  besides,  I  had  other  projects  now 
in  my  head,  and  those  of  no  less  consequence  than  of  planting  a 
new  world,  and  settling  new  kingdoms,  to  the  honor  and  advantage 
of  my  country,"  etc.  And  see  the  stibject  of  mining  beginning  at 
p.  361  ;  also  p.  388. 

■*  This,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  the  amount  of  tlie  fine  imposed 
upon  Bacon  by  the  Parliament  in  which  he  met  his  overthrow. 


THE   STORY    OF    MY    LIFE.  387 

After  Salisbury's  fleatli  another  offer  was  maJe  to 
Seoretary  of  State  Win  wood,  and  receiving  the  favor  of 
Buckingham,  was  finally  entered  into  with  the  consent  of 
the  king.  And  on  August  26th,  1616,  Ealeigh's  commis- 
sion was  signed,  and  on  June  12t]i,  1617,  he  sailed  from 
Plymouth.  Men  of  wealth  were  deeply  concerned  in  the 
enterprise,  and  the  adventurers  were  to  have  all  advantages, 
save  that  one-fifth  part  was  to  be  reserved  to  the  crown. 
The  enterprise  was  a  financial  failure,' and  Raleigh  having 
violated  his  commission  by  committing  depredations  upon 
the  Spanish  dominions  in  burning  the  town  of  St.  Thomas, 
though  claimed  as  done  in  self-defence,  was  upon  his  re- 
turn and  upon  the  demands  of  Spain  executed  October 
29th,  1618.  Much  uncertainty  hangs  about  this  matter, 
as  will  appear  from  Mr.  Spedding's  presentation. 

As  to  those  who  placed  their  fortunes  at  luizard,  Bacon, 
in  his  declaration  concerning  Raleigh,  says  :  "  In  execu- 
tion therefore  of  these  his  designs.  Sir  Walter  Raleigh, 
carrying  the  reputation  of  an  active,  witty  and  valiant 
gentleman  and  especially  a  great  commander  at  sea,  by 
the  enticement  of  this  golden  bait*  of  the  mine,  and  the 
estimation  of  Jiis  own  name,  drew  unto  him  many  brave 
captains  and  other  knights  and  gentlemen  of  great  blood 
and  worth  to  hazard  and  adventure  their  lives,  and  the 
whole  or  a  great  part  of  their  estates  and  fortunes  in  this 
his  voyage  :  whose  ruins  and  decays  following  remain  as 
sad  and  grievous  relics  and  monuments  of  his  unfortunate 
journey  and  unfaithful  proceedings."  (Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  vi.,  p.  392.) 

As  to  the  thwarting  of  this  enterprise  and  the  final  re- 
sults upon  Bacon,  we  may  learn  more  when  we  come  to 
the  Defoe  literature.^ 


•  Later  we  sliall  call  this  enterprise  into  relation  with  the  South 
Sea  scheme  of  the  Defoe  period. 

*  Look  in  the  plays  for  "  golden  bait,"  "  golden  care."  "  golden 
world,"  "golden  fire,"  "golden  words,"  "golden  cadence," 
"  golden  sleep,"  etc.     Promus,  1207.     Golden  sleep. 

"  But  where  unbruised  youth,  with  unstuff'd  brain, 
Doth  couch  his  limbs,  there  golden  sleep  doth  reign." 

— Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  ii.  sc.  3. 

'  See  if  there  is  any  relation  here  with  the  hill  Lucre  and  the  silver 
mine  of  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  begiuuing  at  pp.  180  and  375. 


BAOOE"IAK  FKAMEWOEK  IIST 
CRUSOE. 


We  here  set  out,  from  the  story  itself  of  Crusoe,  some 
distinctive  Baconian  expressions  and  sentence  formation. 

In  this  we  have  made  use  of  the  liohn  edition  of  that 
work.  The  figures  following  the  expressions  indicate  the 
pages  from  which  they  are  taken. 

"  He  told  me  it  was  men  of  desperate  fortunes,  on  one 
hand,  or  of  superior  fortunes,  on  the  other,  who  went 
abroad  upon  adventures,  aspiring  to  rise  by  enterprise, 
and  make  themselves  famous  in  undertakings  of  a  nature 
out  of  the  common  road  ;'  that  these  things  were  all  either 
too  far  above  me,  or  too  far  below  me  ;  that  mine  was  the 
middle  state,^  or  what  might  be  called  the  upper  station 
of  low  life,  which  he  had  found,  by  long  experience,  was 
the  best  state  in  the  world,  the  most  suited  to  human 
happiness  ;  not  exposed  to  the  miseries  and  hardships,  the 
labor  and  sufferings,  of  the  mechanic  part  of  mankind, 
and  not  embarrassed  with  the  pride,  luxury,  ambition, 
and  envy  of  the  upper  part  of  mankind  :  he  told  me, 
I  might  judge  of  the  happiness  of  this  state  by  one  thing, 
viz.,  that  this  was  the  state  of  life  which  all  other  people 
envied  ;  tha.t  kings  have  frequently  lamented  the  miser- 
able  consequences   of   being   born   to   great   things,   and 

'The  expression  "common  road"  is  Baconian.  Bacon  says: 
"  For  the  magnolia  of  nature  generally  lie  out  of  the  common  roads 
and  beaten  paths,  so  that  the  very  absurdity  of  the  thing  may  some- 
times prove  of  service."     (Do  Augmeutis,  ch.  2,  Book  5.)   See  p.  82. 

-  Already  have  we  called  attention  to  Bacon's  use  of  the  expres- 
sions "  middle  state,"  "  middle  place,"  "  middle  region,"  and  which 
spring  from  liis  interpretation  of  the  fable  "  Scylla  and  Icarus, 
or  the  Middle  Way."  And  note  the  use  of  the  word  "  part"  later 
in  this  sentence. 


BACONIAN    FRAMEWORK    IN    CRUSOE.  389 

wished  they  had  been  ]ihiced  in  the  middle  of  two  ex- 
tremes, between  the  mean  and  the  great  ;  that  the  wise 
man  gave  his  testimony  to  this  as  the  just  standard  of  true 
felicity,  Avhen  he  prayed  to  have  '  neither  poverty  nor 
riches.'"  p.  2 — which  was  not  yet  come  to  the  pitch  of 
hardness,'  5 — shall  be  all  undone,  7—1  thought  that  the 
bitterness  of  death  had  been  past,  7— the  terror  of  the 
storm,  put  me  into  such  a  condition,  that  I  can  by  no 
words  describe  it,  8 — I  saw  what  is  not  often  seen,  the 
master,  the  boatswain,  and  some  others,  more  sensible 
than  the  rest,  at  their  prayers,"  8 — they  rather  put  me  into 
the  boat,  than  that  I  might  be  said  to  go  in,  9 — loud  calls 
from  my  reason,  10 — of  my  most  retired  thoughts,  10 — • 
a  plain  and  visible  token,  10 — with  a  strange  kind  of  pas- 
sion, 10 — This  indeed  was,  as  I  said,  but  an  excursion^  of 
my  spirits,  10— shame  opposed  the  best  motions  that 
offered  to  my  thoughts,  11 — the  little  motion  I  had  in  my 
desires,*  11 — money  in  my  pocket,  11 — in  the  habit  of  a 
gentleman,  11 — I  first  fell  acquainted  with  the  master  of 
a  ship,  who  had  been  on  the  coast  of  Guinea,  11— such 
toys  and  trifles,  12 — this  melancholy  part  of  our  story, 
14 — I  was  undone,  14 — we  made  him  very  merry,  14— in 
a  stark  calm,^  15 — which  he  innocently  came  into  also, 
16 — blow  wiiich  way  it  wonld,  16 — if  you  will  not  stroke 
3'^our  face   to   be   true  to    me,^  17 — towards    the    strait's 

'  This  use  of  the  word  "  pilch"  is  distinctly  Baconian.  In  his 
letter  of  advice  to  Villiers,  in  1616,  he  makes  use  of  the  expression 
"  had  brought  you  to  this  high  pitch  of  honor."  (Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  vi.,  p.  13.)  In  Aph.  14,  Book  2  of  the  Novum  Organum  he 
says  :  ' '  The  heat  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  even  in  the  warmest  climates 
and  seasons,  never  reaches  such  a  pitch  as  to  light  or  burn  the  driest 
wo(xl  or  straw,  or  even  tinder  v.'ithout  the  aid  of  burning-glasses." 
In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  173,  we  have  the  expression  "  and  is 
arrived  to  such  a  pitch  of  breeding."  In  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  199, 
we  have  :  "In  the  second,  the  chief  actor  in  the  poem  falls  from 
some  eminent  pitch  of  honor  and  prosperity,  into  misery  and  disgrace. " 

^  See  first  scene  in  the  play  of  The  Tempest. 

^  See  the  distinctive  use  of  this  word  by  Bacon  at  p.  861,  note  1. 
"We  regret  that  space  Avill  not  permit  us  to  do  as  much  as  we  had 
intended  upon  this  part  of  the  work. 

■*  Note  the  Baconian  use  of  the  word  "  motion"  as  applied  to 
desires. 

^  In  Sub.  400  of  Bacon's  Natural  History  we  have  the  expression 
"  stark  dead."  And  in  the  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  Act  i.,  sc.  1,  p. 
416,  we  have  the  expression  "  stark  mad." 

^  Promus,  594.  {Hvld  your  friend  tigliUy  by  the  f nee.)  See  p.  35  and  268. 


390  EACONIAX    FRAMEWORK    IN    CRUSOE. 

mouth,  17— bending  my  course,  17 — I  knew  very  ill  how 
to  do  it,  21 — to  make  them  amends,  22 — the  wound  which 
was  his  mortal  hurt,  22 — they  fell  to  work,  23 — I  could 
not  well  tell  what  I  had  best  to  do,  23—1  let  him  know,^ 
28 — all  of  these  miscarriages,  28 — gulf  of  human  misery, 
29— such  toys,  30 — took  us  quite  out  of  our  knowledge, 
31 — I  could  not  deliver  myself  from  the  waves,^  33 — I  held 
my  hold  till  the  wave  abated,  34 — and  then  I  fetched* 
another  run,  34 — to  express  to  the  life,  34— to  let  him 
blood,*  34 — two  shoes  that  were  not  fellows/  34 — with  the 
comfortable  part  of  my  condition,  35 — I  soon  found  my 
comforts  abate,  35 — I  resolved  to  fall  to  work  with  these, 
37 — the  least  cap-full  of  wind,  38 — overset  all  my  naviga- 
tion, 38 — there  was  some  indraft  of  the  water,  38 — As 
I  imagined,  so  it  was,  38 — I  saw  not  which   way  to  supply 

'  To  this  distinctive  Baconian  expression  we  have  already  called 
attention.  Bacon  says  :  "  But  if  any  one  be  reminded  here  of  chiro- 
mancy, let  him  iinow  that  it  is  a  vain  imposture,  and  not  worthy  to 
hi3  so  much  as  mentioned  in  discourses  of  this  nature."  (Phil. 
Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  376.) 

^  I*romiis,  743.  (In  the  arms  of  the  waves.  Said  of  those  who 
are  tossed  about  in  a  sea  of  troubles.) 

''  To  this  most  unusual  use  of  the  word  "  fetch,"  please  see  p.  138 
and  204. 

*  Note  this  most  unusual  combination  of  words.  Yet  Bacon,  in 
Sub.  657  of  his  Natural  History,  says  :  "  The  sap  of  trees  when 
they  are  let  blood,  is  of  difering  natures. "  In  Love's  Labour's  Lost, 
Act  ii.,  sc.  1,  p.  391,  we  have  : 

"  lios.  Is  the  fool  sick  ? 
Bir.  Sick  at  heart. 
Eos.  Alack!  let  it  blood. " 

'  Here  we  find  a  most  singular  use  of  the  word  "  fellows,"  and 
yet  we  shall  find  that  singularity  to  have  been  Bacon's.  In  Sub. 
294  of  his  Natural  History  he  says  :  "  Time  and  heat  are  fellows 
in  many  effects. "  And  in  Sub.  441  he  says  :  "  Therefore  amongst 
strawberries  sow  here  and  there  some  borage-seed,  and  you  shall 
find  the  strawberries  under  those  leaves  far  more  large  than  their 
fellows."  Again:  "The  state  of  his  Majesty's  treasure  maketh 
me  sad,  and  I  am  sorry  I  was  not  at  Tiballs  to  report  it,  or  that  it 
was  not  done  by  mj^  fellows."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  116. 
In  Addison,  vol.  ii.,  p.  215.  we  have  the  expression  "  it  was  very 
visible  that  the  features  of  his  face  were  not  fellows."  And  on 
p.  400  we  have  :  "  There  is  a  double  praise  due  to  virtue,  when  it  is 
lodged  in  a  body  that  seems  to  have  been  prepared  for  the  reception 
of  vice  ;  in  many  such  cases  the  soul  and  body  do  not  seem  to  be 
fellows." 


BACONIAN    FRAMEWORK    IN    CRUSOE.  391 

myself,  40 — Avith  infinite  labour,  43 — I  smiled  to  myself  at 
the  sight  of  this  money  ;  0  drug  !  I  exclaimed,  what  art 
thou  good  for?  43 — descended  irregularly  every  way  down 
into  the  low  ground,*  44 — The  entrance  to  this  place  I 
made  to  be  not  by  a  door,  but  by  a  short  ladder,  44 — 
which  I  gave  suck  to,^  46 — all  evils  are  to  be  considered 
with  the  good  that  is  iti  them,  47 — after  my  strength 
should  decay, ^  48 — it  came  into  my  thoughts,  49 — to  de- 
liver my  thoughts  from  daily  pouring  upon  them  and 
alllicting  my  mind,  50 — that  as  reason  is  the  substance 
and  original  of  the  mathematics,  so  by  stating  and  squar- 
ing everything  by  reason  and  by  making  the  most  rational 
Judgment  of  everything  every  man  may  be  in  time  master 
of  every  mechanic  art,  52 — that  I  might  come  at  them, 
52 —  I  went  out  into  the  island,  55 — though  not  to  my 
liking,  56 — and  with  much  ado,*  56 — so  I  gave  it  over,^ 

'  Note  here  the  use  of  the  word  "  into,"  and  later  we  have  the 
expression  "  went  out  into  the  island."  Many  of  the  distinctive  ex 
pres-iions  here  found  have  been  already  touched  upOn. 

-  This  is  a  Baconian  expression,  and  "found  in  Macbeth  and  in  many 
places  in  this  literature.  See  Gulliver's  Travels,  p.  138.  Bacon  in 
his  Essay  entitled  "  Of  Travel  "  says  :  "  As  for  the  acquaintance 
which  is  to  be  sought  in  travel  ;  that  which  is  most  of  all  profitable, 
is  acquaintance  with  the  secretaries  and  employed  men  of  amtjassa- 
dors  ;  for  so  in  travelling  in  one  country  he  shall  suck  the  experience 
of  many." 

^  The  word  "  decay"  was  ever  Bacon's  word  for  this  place,  applj^- 
ing  it  as  well  to  mind  as  to  matter  and  to  the  exclusion  of  synonyms. 
He  says  :  "  I  am  much  fallen  in  love  with  a  private  life  ;  and  yet  I 
siiall  so  spend  my  time,  as  shall  not  decay  my  abilities  for  use." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  298.)  Promus,  547.  Anger  of  all 
passions  beareth  the  age  best.  (Ira  omnium  tardissime  sentscit. — 
Eras.  Ad.,  231 — i.e..  It  is  last  to  decay.)  Note  the  use  of  the  word 
iu  The  Pilgrim's  Progress.  And  on  p.  359  we  have  :  "  Besides, 
I  have  observed  that  old  men  have  blessed  themselves  with  this 
mistake  ;  namely,  taking  the  decays  of  nature  for  a  gracious  con- 
quest over  corruptions  ;  and  so  have  been  apt  to  beguile  themselves." 

■*  This  word  "  ado"  and  the  word  "  undone"  are  found  through- 
out, and  in  the  New  Atlantis,  p.  147,  we  have  the  expression  "  with 
much  ado  we  refrained  them."  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  274, 
we  have  :  "  I  had  much  ado  to  forbear  crying  out,  undone  !" 

*  Bacon  says  :  "  But  (my  Lords)  this  is  a  .sea  of  matter  :  and 
therefore  I  must  give  it  over,  and  conclude,"  etc.  (Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  v.,  p.  144.  And  see  our  quotations  at  pp.  26,  210,  note  1,  p.  247.) 
In  the  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Act  iv.,  sc.  6,  p.  313,  we  have  : 

"  Host.  Master  Feuton,  talk  not  to  me  :  my  mind  is  heavy  ;  I  will 
give  over  all." 


392  BACONIAN    FRAMEWORK    IN    CRUSOE. 

67 — For  if  I  had  been  under  it  I  had  never  wanted  a 
grave-digger,  59 — I  knocked  np  nails  on  the  post,'  58 — 
the  leg  grew  well,  58 — but  I  went  abroad  early  and  late, 
58 — and  hard  to  come  at,^  58 — so  I  gave  that  over  also,  59 
— in  the  middle  of  all  my  labours,  59— and  being  willing 
to  have  the  bag  for  some  other  use,  60 — confusion  of  my 
thoughts,  60 — without' so  much  as  inquiring  into  the  end 
of  Providence,  60— it  occurred  to  my  thoughts,  60 — so 
strange  and  unforeseen  a  Providence,  60— as  I  shall  show 
afterwards  in  its  order,^  61 — of  which  in  its  place,  61 — 
with  all  speed,  63 — it  had  taken  water,  64 — I  was  obliged 
to  give  over  for  that  time,  65 — I  would  feign  have  stewed 
it,  67 — it  ended  where  it  began^  in  a  mere  common  flight 
of  joy,  68 — raised  vapours  in  my  head,  69 — the  return  of 
my  distemper,  71 — as  if  I  were  resolved  that  it  should  hit 
one  way  or  other,  73 — I  missed  the  fit  for  good  and  all," 
74 — as  long  as  my  thoughts  should  engage  me,  74 — but 
what  they  were  I  knew  not,  77 — to  anticipate  my  bondage, 
78 — I  had  but  newly  finished  my  fence  and  began  to 
enjoy  myself,  79 — I  cast  up  the  notches  on  my  post,  79  — 
finishing  the  day  as  I  began  it,  80 — I  bought  all  my  ex- 
perience before  I  had  it,  80 — which  I  had  no  way  to  fur- 
nish myself  with,  82 — I  found  them  to  my  purpose,  83 — 
I  employed  a  world  of  time  about  it,  83 — after  some  pause,® 

'  I  do  not  remember  to  liave  uoticed  in  Bacon's  attributed  writings 
any  occasion  for  the  use  of  this  word  "  knock,"  but  in  the  play  of 
The  Tempest,  Act  iii.,  so.  2,  p.  69,  we  have  : 

"  Cal.  Yea,  yea,  my  lord  :  I'll  yield  him  thee  asleep. 
Where  thou  mayst  knock  a  nail  into  his  head." 

^  This  expression,  and  this  use  of  the  word  "at,"  was  common 
with  Bacon.  He  also  used  it  thus  :  "  This  may  be  done,  if  you 
put  them  in  a  pot  or  vessel  well  covered,  that  the  moisture  of  the 
earth  come  not  at  them  ;  or  else  by  puttin^^  them  in  a  conservator^'- 
of  snow."     (Sub.  379  of  Bacon's  Natural  Ilistory.) 

^  This  and  tlie  next  expression  are  common  forms  with  wliich  to 
postpone  subjects  of  thought  ia  all  these  writings.  Let  them  be 
noted.  Another  of  these  forms  may  be  seen  in  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p. 
83.  where  we  have  :  "  But  of  this  more  hereafter." 

■»  See  p.  127. 

'  As  to  the  expression  "  for  good  and  all  "  we,  from  anotlier  of 
these  voyagers,  soon  to  be  introduced,  quote  as  follows  :  "  But  let 
not  this  encourage  either  the  present  age  or  posterity  to  trust  their 
noses  into  the  keeping  of  their  eyes,  which  may  prove  the  fairest 
way  of  losing  them  for  good  and  all."     (Swift's  Works,  p.  143.) 

*  Bacon  says  :  "  For  I  thought  it  good  to  make  some  pause  upon 
that  which  is  received  ;  that  thereby  the  old  may  be  more  easily 


BACONIAN    EKAMx^WORK    IN    CRUSOE.  393 

8-4 — will  be  very  diverting  in  its  place,  84 — I  could  not 
see  which  was  my  way  by  any  direction  but  that  of  the 
sun,  85 — it  was  so  tame  with  being  huiigry,  87 — and  now 
I  changed  both  my  sorrows  and  my  joys  ;  my  very  desires 
altered,  my  affections  changed  their  gusts,  and  my  delights 
were  properly  new  from  what  they  were  at  my  first  com- 
ing, 87 — locked  up  with  the  eternal  bars  and  bolts  of  the 
ocean,  87 — this  would  brake  out  upon  jne  like  a  storm, 
87 — and  my  grief  being  exhausted  would  abate,  88 — it 
began  to  be  ripe  apace,  89 — this  work  took  me  up  full 
three  months,  92 — which  was  the  thing"!  was  upon,  93— 
Here  I  was  at  a  full  stop,'  94 — and  thus  I  made  shift*  for 
many  years,  95 — and  now  I  began  to  give  myself  over  for 
lost,  107  -Thus  we  never  see  the  true  state  of  our  condi- 
tion till  it  is  illustrated  to  us  by  its  contraries,  107 — I 
made  things  round  and  shapable,^  111 — deep  baskets 
were  the  receivers  of  my  corn,  111 — but  I  could  not  by 

made  perfect  and  the  new  more  easily  approached."  (Phil.  Works, 
vol.  iv.,  p.  33.)  And  in  the  New  Atlantis,  p.  153,  we  have  the 
expression  "  Upon  his  pause  of  speech."  In  Hamlet,  Act  iii.,  sc.  3, 
p.  301,  we  have  : 

"  And,  like  a  man  to  double  business  bound, 
I  stand  in  pause  where  I  shall  first  begin. 
And  both  neglect." 

'  See  this  use  of  the  word  "  stop"  at  pp.  293  and  334  of  Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  vi.  And  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  400,  we  lia?e  : 
"  Then  I  continued  to  give  thanks  for  this  my  great  deliverance  ; 
for  I  verily  believe  she  intended  no  good,  but  rather  sought  to  make 
a  stop  of  me  in  mv  journey." 

^  The  words  "shift"  and  "drift"  are  fixed  words  of  this  litera- 
ture, and  we  find  Bacon  using  the  expression  "  better  at  shift  than 
at  drift."  Note  these  words  throughout  the  plays.  In  Romeo  and 
Juliet,  Act  ii.,  sc.  8,  p.  76,  we  have  : 

"  Fri.  Be  plain,  good  son,  and  homely  in  thy  drift  : 
Riddling  confession  finds  but  riddling  shift." 

In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  203,  we  have  :  "  Now,  after  a  while 
Littlefaith  came  to  himself,  and  getting  up,  made  shift  to  scramble 
on  his  way." 

^  This  alludes  to  the  making  of  his  clay  pots.  Promus,  728.  (An 
earthen  pot  in  the  threshold.  Said  of  what  is  contemptible  and  not 
worth  carrying  off.— Eras.  Ad.,  376.)  Promus,  727.  An  earthen- 
ware god.  Some  of  the  minor  deities  were  made  of  wood  or  clay, 
like  pots  (ollaj.) 

"  Men  are  but  gilded  loam  or  painted  clay." 

— Richard  II. ,  Act  i. ,  sc.  3. 


394  BACONIAN   FRAMEWORK   IK   CRUSOE. 

auy  means  bring  it  to  pass,  111— to  study  some  art  to 
trap  and  snare  the  goats,  112 — to  go  about'  to  bring  him 
away,  112 — I  could  have  killed  him,  but  that  was  not  my 
business  nor  would  it  answer  my  end,  113 — It  was  a  good 
while  before  they  would  feed,  113 — breeding  some  up 
tame,  113 — I  pitched  upon  a  place  very  proper  for  all 
these,  113 — Nor  was  the  madness^  of  it  so  great  as  to  the 
co^npass,  113 — This  was  acting  with  some  prudence,  114 
— I  inclosed  five  several  pieces  of  ground,  114 — after  a 
great  many  essays  and  miscarriages,  114 — There  was  my 
majesty,  the  prince  and  lord  of  the  whole  island  ;  I  had. 
the  lives  of  all  my  subjects  at  my  absolute  command  ;  I 
could  hang,  draw,  give  liberty,  and  take  it  away  ;  and  no 
rebels  among  all  my  subjects,'  114 — and  had  found  no 
species  to  multiply  his  kind  upon,  114 — I  had  such  a 
terror  upon  my  spirits,  116 — but  it  was  all  one,*  119 — • 
terrified  to  the  last  degree,  119 — that  as  I  could  not  guess 
what  the  ends  of  divine  wisdom  might  be  in  all  this,  so 
I  was  not  to  dispute  his  sovereignty  who,  as  I  was  his 
creature,  had  an  undoubted  right,  by  creating,  to  govern 
and  dispose  of  me  absolutely  as  ho  thought  fit,  121 — these 
thoughts  took  me  up  many  hours  and  gave  me  the  vapours 
to  the  highest  degree,  123 — and  my  head  was  full  of 
vapours  as  above,  123 — this  confusion  of  my  thoughts,  123 

'  Bacon  in  his  Essay  on  "Sedition  and  Troubles"  saj's  :  "  For  the 
despising  of  them  many  times  checlts  them  best  ;  and  the  going 
about  to  stop  them  doth  but  make  a  wonder  long-lived."  And  see 
p.  33,  note  1. 

'■^  Note  the  word  "madness"  throughout  and  particularly  in  the 
plays.  Promus,  919.  (Madness  makes  them  go  ;  shame  makes 
Ihem  stay. ) 

^  Already  have  we  seen  in  connection  with  the  New  Atlantis 
Bacon's  broken-off  intention  to  give  a  sjstem  of  laws  for  his  model 
government.  He,  however,  in  this  work  Crusoe,  at  p.  186,  touches 
the  nucleus,  we  think,  upon  which  it  was  to  be  founded. 

■*  Bacon  says  :  "  And  yet  that  had  been  all  one  to  the  sharpness  of 
the  angle."  (Phil.  VV^orks,  vol.  iii.,  p.  647.)  And  in  the  New 
Atlantis,  p.  135,  we  have  the  expression  "for  to  us  it  is  all  one." 
This  expression  was  common  with  Bacon.  It  may  be  seen  in  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  220,  and  is  found  in  manj  place  in  the  plays. _ 
In  the  play  of  Henry  V..  Act  iv.,  sc.  7,  p.  560,  we  have  :  "  There  is 
■  a  river  in  Macedon,  and  there  is  also  moreover  a  river  at  Monmouth  : 
it  is  call'd  Wye  at  Monmouth,  but  it  is  out  of  my  prains,  what  is  the 
name  of  the  other  river  :  but  'tis  all  one  ;  'tis  like  as  my  fingers  is  to 
my  fingers,  and  there  is  salmons  in  both."  See  if  this  subtlety  has 
any  relation  to  Monmouth,  later  to  be  alluded  to.     See  p.  348. 


BACONIAN    FRAMEWORK    IN    CRUSOE.  395 

—holes  about  as  big  as  I  might  pnt  my  arm  out  at,  124— 
Thus  I  took  all  the  measures  that  human  prudence'  could 
suggest,  125— while  this  was  doing,  125— to  live  in  the 
constant  snare  of  the  fear  of  men,  126— upon  the  religious 
part  of  my  thoughts,  126— of  which  hereafter,^  127— in 
this  frame  of  thoughtfulness,  128-which  I  had  no  manner 
of  occasion  to  do,  128— it  was  by  traps  and  snares,  129— 
it  put  me  upon  reflecting,^  129— had  taken  off  the  edge  of 
my  intention,  129— But  my  invention  ran  quite  another 
way,  130— These  considerations  put  me  to  a  pause  and  to 
a  kind  of  full  stop,*  133— for  certain  it  is,  ]34— I  resolved 
It  all  at  last  into  thankfulness,  135— a  secret  hint  shall 
direct  us  this  way  when  we  intended  to  go  that  way,  135 
—these  secret  hints  and  pressings  of  'mind,  ]35_nor 
would  any  man  else,  136— a  weed  like  nettles,  138— wheie 
none  could  come  at  them,  138— and  as  it  was  tide  of  ebb, 
141— all  the  time  of  the  tide  of  flood,  141— As  I  expected' 
so  It  proved,  141— and  with  all  the  speed  i  was  able  to 
make,  141— the  perturbation  of  mind  during  this  142— 
they  must  needs  see  it,  143— Had  they  seen  the  island,  as 
1  must  necessarily  suppose  they  did  not,  144— as  might  be 
the  case  many  ways,  144—1  cannot  explain  by  any  possible 
euergy  of  words,  144— those  same  secret  springs  in  the 
affections,  145— and  the  same  evening  about  an  hour 
within  night^  I  reached  the  island,  148— cost  what  it 
would,  153— wear  off  the  edge  of  my  desire,  154-It  came 
now    very    warmly   upon    my   thoughts,    156— He  fell   to 

^  In  ch  3,  Book  8  of  the  De  Augraentis  we  have  :  "  The  narrow- 
ness ot  human  prudence  cannot  foresee  all  cases  that  time  mav 
pi'ocuice.  ■' 

•^  Bacon  says  :  "  And  I  am  not  now  speaking  of  the  sources  of 
particular  winds  (of  which  hereafter),  but  of  tiie  places  in  which 
winds  m  general  are  bred."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p  159)  And 
on  p.  olb  he  says  :  "  In  the  mean  time  the  mind  also  has  its  periods 
Jn7^  r/''^  T'^'fK^^.  described  by  years;  as  a  failing  memory 
and  the  like,  of  which  hereafter."  Often  by  this  distinctive  expres- 
siOQ  did  Bacon  suspend  examination  upon  a  subject.  See  p.  392  note  3 

•  In  the  New  Atlantis,  p.  129,  we  have  the  expression  "  which  did 
put  us  in  some  hope  of  land." 

*  This  u.se  of  the  words  "  pause"  and  "  stop"  by  Bacon  we  have 
sumciently  noted.  As  circumstances  have  limited  our  time  we 
have  not  been  able  to  do  for  this  part  of  our  subject  what  was  orio-- 
lually  designed.  But  we  trust  the  reader  will  here  lend  aid  in  search- 
ing out  these  relatious. 

^^^^See  this  expression,   "within  night,"  in  the  New  Atlantis,   p 


3'J6  BACONIAN    FKAMEWORK    IN    CRUSOE. 

work,'  158— He  was  a  comely/  handsome  fellow,  perfectly 
well  made,  with  straight  strong  limbs,  not  too  large,  tall 
and  well  shaped,  158 — And  first  I  let  him  know  his  name 
should  be  Friday,  159 — I  called  him  so  for  the  memory  of 
the  time,  159 —but  I  discovered  so  much  abhorrence,  at 
the  very  thought  of  it,  160 — for  never  man  had  a  more 
faithful,  loving,  sincere  servant,  161 — his  very  affections 
were  tied  to  me,  161 — the  many  testimonies  he  gave  me  of 
this  put  it  out  of  doubt,  161 — but  I  shut  it  np,  and 
checked  my  thoughts,  162 — as  we  are  all  the  clay  in  the 
hand  of  the  potter,  162 — to  bring  Friday  off  from  his 
horrid  way  of  feeding,  163 — but  I  could  easily  see  the 
meaning  was,  to  pray  me  not  to  kill  him,  163 — which  was 
indeed  a  parrot,  though  I  thought  it  had  been  a  hawk, 
164 — The  poor  creature  did  not  understand  me  at  all,  but 
thought  I  had  asked  who  was  his  father  ;  but  I  took  it  up 
by  another  handle,'  and  asked  him  who  made  the  sea,  167 
— but  he  returned  upon  me  repeating  my  words,  169 — 
when  I  had  examined  further  into  it,*  172 — to  see  if  he 
would  discover  any  of  the  new  thoughts  which  I  suspected 
were  in  him,*  174 — what  kind  of  wood  was  fittest  for  it, 

*  In  the  New  Atlantis,  p.  151,  we  have  the  expression  "  that  done 
they  fell  to  music  and  dancing."  In  Hamlet,  Act  ii  ,  so.  2,  p.  244, 
we  have  : 

"  He  falls  to  such  perusal  of  my  face, 
As  he  would  draw  it. " 

In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  212,  we  have  :  "  Then  Atheist  fell  into 
a  very  great  laughter."  While  on  p.  110  we  have  the  expression 
'■  he  fell  from  running  to  going  ;"  on  p.  214,  '  let  us  fall  into  good 
discourse  ;"  on  p.  259,  "  the  boys  fell  into  tears  ;"  on  p.  260,  "  she  fell 
to  sleeping  again  ;"  on  p.  263,  "  she  fell  a  weeping,"  etc. 

2  This  word  "  comely"  was  ever  Bacon's  word  for  this  place.  In 
his  Essay  entitled  "Of  Beauty,"  he  says:  "Virtue  is  like  a  rich 
stone,  best  plain  set ;  and  surely  virtue  is  best  in  a  body  that  is 
comely,  though  not  of  delicate  features  :  and  that  hath  rather  dig- 
nity of  presence,  than  beauty  of  aspect." 

^  We  here  again  have  tl)at  distinctively  used  Baconian  word 
"handle,"  considered  in  earlier  pages.  And  in  the  Promus  Notes 
we  have  :  Promus,  856.     (To  look  for  a  handle.)     See  p.  110. 

*  This  expression  is  distinctly  Baconian.  The  use  of  the  word 
"  discover"  in  the  next  expression  is  a  distinct  earmark  in  these 
writings.     Observe  its  use  in  Addison. 

*  In  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p.  64,  we  have  the  expression 
"  which  I  know  to  be  in  you."  Bacon's  critical  and  definite  use  of 
these  two  words  "  in"  and  "  into"  may  be  seen  in  the  play  of  Julius 
Csesar  thus  : 


BACONIAN    FRAMEWORK    IN    CRUSOE.  397 

176—1  brought  it  to  pass,  177— wlien  he  saw  me  work 
my  boat  to  and  again  in  the  sea,  177— for  1  had  been  so 
good  a  husband'  of  my  rum,  175—1  began  to  abate  my 
resolution,   179— but  did    not  immediately  know   which 
way  to  run,  181— to  victual  our  vessel,  190— Ris  caution 
was  so  seasonable,'  190— and  caused  them  to  do  the  like, 
190_but  it  fell  out  to  my  mind  another  way,'  194— What 
is  your  case?— Oar  case,*  said  he,  sir,  is  too  long  to  tell 
you,  109- Look  you,  sir,  said  I,  197— and  so  put  it  wholly 
upon  God's  Providence  to  direct  the  shot,  197— if  any 
escaped  we  should  be  undone,  198 -necessity  legitimates 
my  advice,  198— they  ga^e  him  all  the  protestations  of 
their  sincerity  that  could  be  desired,  198—1  told  him  this 
was  my  castle  and  my  residence,  but  that  I  had  a  seat  in 
the  country,  as  most  "princes  have,  whither  I  could  retire 
upon  occasion,    199— telling  one  another  they   were    got 
into  an  enchanted  island,  204— but  I  was  willing  to  take 
them  at  some  advantage,  204— which  fell  out  just  as  we 
desired,  205—1  kept  myself  and  one  more  out  of  sight  for 
reasons  of  state,  206— and  would  go  with  him  all  over  the 
world,  207— a  chain  of  wonders,  210— but  that  Providence 

"  Cas.  I  know  that  virtue  to  be  in  yon,  Brutus, 
As  well  as  I  do  kaow  your  outward  favor." 
And  again  : 

"  Bru.  Into  what  dan2;ers  would  you  lead  me,  Cassius, 
That  you  would  have  me  seek  into  myself 
For  that  which  is  not  in  me  ?"  ^^^ 

—Act  i.,  so.  2,  pp.  33o,  336. 

1  Note  this  use  of  the  word  "  husband  "  by  Bacon  in  Sub.  596 
and  f)99  of  his  Natural  History.  And  in  another  sense  m  his  Essay 
entitled  "Of  Honor  and  Reputation"  we  have:  "A  man  is  an  lu 
husband  of  his  honor,  that  eutereth  into  any  action,  the  faihng 
wherein  mav  disgrace  him  more  than  the  carrying  it  through  can 
honor  him."  . 

2  Note  this  use  of  the  word  "  seasonable"  by  Bacon,  in  t!ie  plays, 
and  throughout.     In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  183,  we  have  : 

"  Chr.  Ah  my  brother,  this  is  a  seasonable  sight :"  etc. 

3  These  words  "  fell  out"  were  distinctly  Baconian.  Promus,  770. 
He  casts  another  man's  chance.  (Aliena  jacit.— Eras.  Ad.,  169., 
When  things  fall  out  otherwise  than  has  been  hoped.) 

*  As  already  stated,  there  is  throughout  these  writings  a  permanent 
and  kind  of  distinctive  use  of  this  word  ' '  case. ' '  Bacon  says  :  '  But 
after  I  had  given  him  that  thought,  I  turned  it  upon  this,  that  I  lett 
his  state  and  business  in  good  case,  whereof  I  gave  him  a  particular 
account."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  163.)    See  p.  92,  note  2. 


398  BACONIAN    FRAMEWORK    IN    CRUSOE. 

had  ensnared  them  in  their  own  ways,  211 — I  believe  the 
sudden  surprise  of  Joy  had  overset  nature  and  I  had  died 
upon  the  spot,  219 — he  ordered  me  to  be  let  blood,'  219 — 
after  which  I  had  relief  and  grew  well,  219 — and  indeed 
was  the  original"  of  the  whole  journey,"  222. 

There  seems  as  if  some  hitch  or  change  of  purpose  here 
in  the  story,  though  continued  by  the  same  hand. 

"  We  all  mended  our  pace,  225 — and  will  have  satisfac- 
tion in  point  of  honor,  225 — put  us  out  of  doubt,^  227 — 
he  had  the  heels  of  them,  230 — but  the  creature  resolved 
us  soon,  230— some  timber  trees,*  230 — out  of  all  govern- 
ment of  themselves,  246 — which  had  blown  them  quite  out 
of  their  knowledge,  250 — and  presently  knew  the  yery 
countenance  of  the  place,  255 — we  went  on  shore  upon 
the  tide  of  flood,  257 — to  see  how  his  passion  run  out 
another  way,  257 — he  threw  his  arms  abroad,^  258— their 
behaviour  was  to  the  last  degree  obliging  and  courteous, 
259— the  captain  gave  them  good  words,  261 — and  beating 

'  We  have  seen  that  this  distinctive  expression,  "to  be  let  blood," 
is  Baconian.     See  p.  390,  note  4. 

-To  this  use  of  the  word  "original"  we  have  already  called 
attention. 

^  We  find  Bacon  not  onl^^  using  this  distinctive  expression,  "  out 
of  doubt,"  but  the  expressions  "  out  of  levity,"  "  out  of  question," 
"out  of  countenance,"  "out  of  zeal,"  "out  of  hope,"  etc.  He 
says:  "1  myself  am  out  of  doubt,  that  you  have  been  miserably 
abused,"  etc.  (Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  21.)  In  the  Comedy  of  Errors, 
Act  iv.,  sc.  3,  p.  196,  we  have  : 

"  Cour.  Now,  out  of  doubt,  Antipholus  is  mad. 
Else  would  he  never  so  demean  himself." 

In  a  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  Act  iv.,  sc.  2,  p.  335,  we  have  : 

"  Star.  He  cannot  be  heard  of.     Out  of  doubt,  he  is  transported." 

And  in  the  plays  we  have  "Out  of  his  knowledge,"  "  out  of  coun- 
tenance," "out  of  Christian  burial,"  "out  of  sleep,"  "  out  of  my 
promise,"  "  out  of  my  purpose,"  "  out  of  question,"  "  out  of  hope," 
etc. 

■*  Bacon  was  ever  definite  in  speaking  of  trees,  mentioning  them  as 
fruit,  shade,  or  timber  trees.  See  Sub.  472  and  593  of  his  Natuial 
History.  And  in  his  Essay  on  "  Sedition  and  Troubles"  he  says  :  "As 
for  nobility  in  particular  persons,  it  is  a  reverend  thing  tx)  see  an 
ancient  castle  or  building  not  in  decay  ;  or  to  see  a  fair  timber  tree 
sound  and  perfect."  This  distinction  is  observed  throughout  these 
writings. 

'"  In  the  New  Atlantis,  p.  135,  we  have  :  "  At  his  coming  in  he 
did  bend  to  u.s_a  little,  andput  his  arms  abroad."     See  also  p.  133. 


BACONIAN    FRAMEWORK    IxV    CRUSOE.  309 

tlieir  brains'  in  considering  tlicir  present  circumstances, 
271— as  they  expected  it  fell  out.  272— he  was  as  true  to 
me  as  the  very  flesh    upon  my  bones,    274— they   grew 
apace,*  275— their  hair-brained  courage,  277— unless  nar- 
rowly' searched  for,  278  -and  could  make  nothing  of  it, 
278— but  my  meaning  is,  286— there  was  the  very  face  of 
industry  and  success  upon  all  they  did,  287— but  was  arj 
exceeding  good  fence,  as  well  against  heat,  as  against  all 
sorts  of    vermin,*  303 -had  we  poor  Spaniards  been  in 
your  case,  we  should  never  have  got  half  these  things  out 
of  the  ship/  307—1  desired  him  to  abate  his  compliment, 
307_vvhich  they  were  bred  to,  310— but  let  them  see  how 
nature  made  artificers  at  first,  312— what  was  afterwards 
done  in  this  matter  I  will  speak  of  by  itself,'  319— Will 
Atkins  for  his  own  particular'  added,  324— and  bade  him 
1  Bacon  says  :  "  1  am  now  beating  my  brains  (among  many  cases 
of  his  Majesty's  business)  touching  the  redeeming  the  tjme  in  this 
business  o'f  cloth."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  73.)  _ 

■'  Bacon  says  :  "  Tlie  materials  of  that  kingdom,  which  is  trade 
and  wealth,  grew  on  apace."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  310.)  _ 
3  There  will  be  found  a  kind  of  individualism  m  the  use  ot  tins 
word  "narrow"  tliroughout.  It  is  generally  associated  witlisome 
search  into,  and  the  expression  commonly  is  "  look  narrowly  i»t0- 
And  see  this  identical  use  in  The  Pilgrim's  Proixress,  p.  217._  Ana 
in  Addison,  vol.  i.,  p.  480,  we  have  :  "  I  searched  narrowly  into  it, 
especially  among  those  additions  of  sculpture  made  in  tlie  emperor _s 
own  age,  to  see  if  I  could  find  any  marks  of  the  apparition  that  is 
said  to  have  preceded  the  very  victory  which  gave  occasion  to  the 
triumphal  arch."  ,.    •■ 

*  See  Bacon's  use  of  this  word  "  fence"  at  p.  34.  It  is  appnea 
here  as  well  against  an  influence  as  against  distinctive  bodies.  Ana 
Bacon  says  :  "So  here  is  the  case  of  Princes,  that  fear  of  law  and 
punishment,  which  be  the  ordinance  of  God  as  a  fence  about  their 
thrones,  is  thrown  down  and  trampled  under  foot."  (Bacon  s  Let- 
ters, vol.  v.,  p.  164.)  In  Addison,  vol.  ii.,  p.  195,  we  have  :  1  he 
crew  of  each  vessel  made  themselves  a  cabin  of  turf  and  wood,  at 
some  distance  from  each  other,  to  fence  themselves  against  the 
inclemencies  of  the  weather,  wliich  w^as  severe  beyond  imagination. 

5  This  use  of  the  w^ord  "  case"  we  have  already  called  under  re- 
view.    And  in  the  New  Atlantis,  p.   130,  w;e  have  tlie  expression 
"  For  our  sick  there  were  many,  and  in  very  ill  case.       _       <<  t     i    n 
«  In  tlie  New  Atlantis,  p.  144,  we  have  the  expression     i  shall 
now  give  you  an  account  by  itself."  .  ,,     n 

'  Note  this  distinctive  expression  ' '  for  his  own  particular  _  l^acon 
savs  :  "But  for  my  particular  I  do  assure  you  I  can  hardly  imagine 
a  matter  wherein  you  shall  more  effectually  tie  me  unto  you  than  m 
this."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p.  265.)  And  on  p.  3«3  we  have  : 
"To  conclude,  let  him  be  true  to  himself,  and  avoul  all  tedious 
reaches  of  stale  that  are  not  merely  pertinent  to  his  ^particular. 


400  BACOISriAN    FRAMEWORK    IN    CRUSOE, 

consider  of  it,i  324 — I  was  a  little  backward  to  it,  325 — ■ 
be  his  own  opinion  what  it  would,  327 — ■!  take  this  man 
to  be  a  trne  penitent,  328  — and  let  us  more  narrowly  and 
fully  observe  what  was  before  us,  330 — instead,  of  my 
going  about  to  teach  and  instruct  him,  334 — and  make 
her  rather  contemn  religion  than  receive  it,  339 — I  thought 
he  had  all  the  zeal,  all  the  knov/ledge,  all  the  sincerity  of 
a  Christian  without  the  errors  of  a  Roman  Catholic  ;  and 
that  I  took  him  to  be  such  a  clergyman  as  the  Roman 
bishops  were,  before  the  Church  of  Rome  assumed  spirit- 
ual sovereignty  over  the  consciences  of  men,°  339 — let  the 
value  be  what  it  would,  341 — his  discourse  was  very  pret- 
tily delivered,  341 — I  liked  it  the  worse,^  350 — just  as  a 
hunting  horn  forms  a  tune  with  an  open  throat,  353 — 
about  a  stone's  cast,  359 — being  very  ill  wounded,  360 — 
we  told  thirty-two  bodies,  362 — they  gave  me  good  words,* 
363 — yet  to  give  them  their  diie,  363 — he  told  me  that  he 
found  that  I  brought  that  aiiair  continually  upon  the 
stage, '^  370 — that  I  made  unjust  reflections  upon  it,  370 — 
that  was  a  heavy  piece  of  news,  372 — there  are  no  drones 
in  tlie  world  but  men,  374 — we-  shall  see  so  much  further 
into  it,  375 — provided  he  could,  as  he  called  it,  find  his 
account  in  it,  376 — in  bringing  me  to  come  into  it,  376 — 
but  fear,  that  blind  useless  passion,  worked  another  way 

While  ou  p.  3Go  we  have  the  expression  "  since  it  is  mixed  with  my 
particular."  Already  Iia^e  we  mentioned  the  fact  tliat  a  person  by 
the  name  of  Will  Atkins  was  one  of  the  witnesses  to  Lord  Bacon's 
last  will. 

'  Bacon  says  :  "  Simonides  being  asked  by  Hiero  ;  WJiat  lietliougM 
of  Ood?  asked  a  se^eu-night's  time  to  consider  of  it."  (Bacon's 
Literary  Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  158.) 

*  To  restore  the  Church  to  this  ancient  foundation,  we  take  to 
have  been  Bacon's  aim  in  religious  matters. 

^  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  387,  we  have:  "I  had  thought 
they  lived  upon  crumbs  of  bread,  or  upon  other  such  harmless 
matter  :  I  like  him  worse  than  I  did."  This  expression  may  be 
found  used  by  Bacon,  but  I  have  mislaid  my  reference. 

■*  We  tind  Bacon  usiug  the  expressions  "good  words,"  "good 
ends,"  "  good  hours,"  "  good  dreams."  "  good  hope,"  "  good  leave," 
etc.     And  in  Measure  for  Measure,  Act  iii.,  sc.  1,  p.  76,  we  have  : 

"  Isab.  1  have  heard  of  the  lady,  and  good  words  went  with  her 
name." 

^  Bacon  says  :  "  For  as  his  Majesty  hath  good  experience  that 
when  his  business  comes  upon  the  stage  I  carry  it  with  strength  and 
resolution,  so  in  the  proceedings  I  love  to  be  wary  and  considerate." 
_(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  47.) 


BACONIAN    FRAMEWORK    IN    CRUSOE.  401 

and  threw  me  into  the  Yapours,  393— they  would  not  give 
themselves  leave,  393— but  let  that  be  how  it  will,  393— 
being  a  mixture  of  pomp  and  poverty,  403 — I  took  this 
time  to  think  what  pains  men's  pride  put  them  to,  408 — 
as  if  we  admired  his  pomp  though  we  really  pitied  and 
contemned  him,  404— of  which  he  had  abundance  to  make 
us  merry  with,  405— as  this  is  one  of  tlie  singularities  of 
China,  so  they  may  be  allowed  to  excel  in  it,  408— 0 
Senhor  Inglese  says  he,  you  speak  in  colours.'  In  colours  ! 
said  I  ;  what  do  you  mean  by  that  ? — Why  you  speak 
what  looks  white  this  way  and  black  that  way  :  gay  one 
way  and  dull  another.  You  tell  him  it  is  a  good  wall  to 
keep  out  Tartars  ;  you  tell  me  by  that  it  is  good  for  noth- 
ing but  to  keep  out" Tartars,  409— and  like  true  sheep  keep 
together  wlien  they  fly,  410— we  supposed  this  was  to  call 
their  friends  about  them,  and  so  it  was,  410 — nor  showing 
the  face  of  any  order  at  all,  410— an  ugly,  ill-favored 
weapon,  412— to  give  him  his  due,  413— only  if  need 
were,  414— a  face  of  the  Christian  worship,  410 — winter 
began  to  come  on  apace,  428 — if  the  door  of  your  liberty 
were  opened,  431— to  go  back  to  the  pomp  of  a  court,  432 
—  so  that  objection  is  out  of  doors,  432— the  liberty  of 
my  reason,  435." 

'  Let  this  subject  of  speaking  in  colors  be  called  into  relation  with 
Bacon's  sophisms  and  his  article  on  the  "  Colors  of  Good  and  Evil." 


HARLEY  AIN^D  DEFOE. 


Less  space  has  been  devoted  to  this  title  and  to  the  his- 
toric period  following  the  reign  of  James  the  First  than 
was  at  first  intended,  and  for  two  reasons  :  first,  because 
more  of  the  space  set  in  which  to  compass  the  work  has 
been  devoted  to  other  subjects  than  was  originally  de- 
signed ;  and  second,  because  it  seems  less  necessary  than 
at  first  in  setting  forth  our  claims.  And  we  may  add,  we 
but  ring  the  bell  that  shall  call  better  wits  to  the  work. 

Charles  the  First  came  to  the  English  throne  upon  the 
death  of  his  father,  March  37th,  1625,  and  met  his  own 
fate  at  the  block,  January  30th,  1649,  as  we  have  seen. 
Upon  his  death  the  Eump  Parliament  declared  it  high 
ti'eason  to  proclaim  another  king,  and  the  House  of  Lords, 
having  been  declared  useless  and  dangerous,  was  abolished. 
England  thus  became  a  republic,  its  executive  authority 
being  now  vested  in  a  commission  of  forty-one  persons,  of 
whom  Bradshaw  was  President,  and  John  Milton,  the 
poet,  at  the  age  of  forty-one,  was  Foreign  Secretary. 
Charles  a  few  months  after  his  father's  death  became 
wedded  to  the  Catholic  princess,  Henrietta  Maria,  a 
daughter  of  Henry  the  Fourth  of  France.  He  left  sur- 
viving him  six  children,  two  of  whom,  Charles  and  James, 
came  to  the  throne,  though  their  claims  were  suspended 
during  the  reign  of  The  Commonwealth,  and  until  May  8th, 
1660,  when  Charles  was  proclaimed  King  as  Charles  the 
Second,  and  thus  was  the  monarchy  restored.  Upon  his 
death,  February  6th,  1685,  he  openly  avowed  his  belief  in 
the  Catholic  faith,  and  was  immediately  succeeded  by  his 
brother  James,  under  the  title  of  James  the  Second,  who, 
openly  espousing  th.e  Catholic  faith  in  the  face  of  literary 
methods  now  begun,  brought  on  the  Revolution  of  1688, 
whereupon  he  was  compelled  to  abdicate  his  throne. 


'      HARLEY    AND    DEFOE,    ]  403 

Earlier,  and  on  December  5th,  1661,  in  the  second  year 
of  the  restoration  of  the  monarchy,  was  born  at  London 
Eobert  Harley,  our  noted  manuscript  collector.  And 
Defoe  is  said  to  have  been  born  during  the  same  year. 
Harley  became  the  founder  of  Avhat  is  known  as  the  Plar- 
leian  "Manuscrii>t,s,  the  Harleian  Miscellany,  and  the  Har- 
leian  Library,  and  ultimately  became  first  Earl  of  Oxford. 
We  have  said  a  collector  of  manuscript,  we  think  it  would 
have  been  truer,  in  the  main,  to  have  said  that  he  was  a 
discloser  or  bringer  to  light  of  manuscripts. 

He  was  the  eldest  son  of  Sir  Robert  Harley,  a  wealthy 
landowner  in  Herefordshire.  In  religion  he  was  a  Non- 
conformist, in  politics,  in  early  life,  a  Whig.  The  Whigs 
were  the  party  known  as  advocates  of  popular  rights. 
The  word  "  Whig"  is  said  to  have  taken  its  origin  from 
the  initial  letters  of  the  club's  motto  from  which  the 
party  sprung,  it  being  "  We  hope  in  God."  ' 

The  opposite  })arty — the  Turits — were  earnest  supporters 
of  royal  and  ecclesiastic  authority,  and  the  word  first 
appears  in  English  history  in  the  year  1679,  during  the 
Parliamentary  struggle  to  exclude  James  the  Second, 
then  Duke  of  York,  from  the  line  of  succession. 

Those  who  opposed  the  bill  were  designated  as  Tories, 
while  those  who  were  its  advocates  were  called  Whigs. 
The  mentioned  religious  and  political  opinions  were  by 
Harley's  family  connections  early  instilled  into  his  mind. 
At  the  Revolution  or  abdication  of  James,  in  1688,  he  and 
his  father  raised  a  troop  of  horse  in  support  of  the  cause 
of  William  the  Third,  a  son  of  William,  Prince  of  Orange, 
by  Mary,  eldest  daughter  of  Charles  the  First,  and  who 
had  further  connected  himself  with  the  Stuart  line  by 
wedding  Mary,  a  daughter  of  James  the  Second.  The 
Harley s  took  possession  of  the  city  of  Worcester  in  Will- 
iam's interest,  and  who  with  Mary,  his  wife,  became  now 
entitled  to  the  crown  by  what  is  known  as  the  Act  of 
Settlement,  passed  January  23d,  1689.  This  interest  in 
the  new  King  brought  Robert  Harley  to  public  notice,  and 
in  April,  1689,  he  was  elected  to  Parliament.  Later  he 
became  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  and  from  which,  in 
1711,  he  was  raised  to  the  peerage. 

'  Had  those,  connected  with  this  club  a  relation  to  the  Defoe  litera- 
ture and  to  the  scheme  yet  to  be  unfolded  ?  Let  this  thouglit  be  at 
least  taken  with  us  as  we  go. 


404  •  HARLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

He  became  early  noted  for  his  knowledge  of  Parliamen- 
tary proceedings,  by  devoting  much  attention  and  care  to 
tlie  subject,  and  from  1701  to  1705  he  was  Speaker  of  the 
House.  Upon  King  William's  death,  February  21st,  1702, 
Anna,  a  second  daughter  of  James  the  Second,  came  to 
the  throne. 

At  about  this  time  Harley  began  to  manifest  much  un- 
certainty as  to  party  atiilla'tions,  and  later  his  actions  are 
said  to  have  been  enigmatic.  He  was  now,  as  we  shall 
claim,  studiously  and  cautiously  playing  his  part  in  the 
great  scheme  later  to  be  unfolded,  and  which  the  men- 
tioned change  had  in  a  measure  made  necessary.  By 
some  he  was  even  thought  treacherous  to  the  nation,  and 
on  February  lltli,  1708,  he  was  dismissed  from  his  office 
as  Secretary  of  State,  which  had,  in  1704,  been  added  to 
his  position  as  Speaker  of  the  House.  During  this  time 
he  had  been  the  secret  adviser  of  the  Queen,  who,  by  the 
now  opposition  awakened  against  him,  was  forced  to 
accept  his  resignation.  He  is  said  to  have  possessed  great 
aptitude  for  intrigue,  and  now,  and  without  scruple,  to 
have  used  all  liis  arts  to  hasten  the  downfall  of  his 
enemies.  The  danger  to  the  national  Church  and  the 
cost  of  the  war  with  France  are  said  to  have  been  the 
weapons  which  he  used  to  influence  the  popular  mind. 
Through  his  cousin,  Mrs.  Masham,  he  had  still  the  ear  of 
tlie  queen,  and  in  May,  1711,  he  was  restored  to  power  as 
Baron  Harley  of  Wigmore  and  Earl  of  Oxford  and  Morti- 
mer ;  and  beiore  the  month  had  ended  he  was  created  Lord 
Treasurer  and  in  the  following  year  he  became  Knight  of 
the  Garter.  This  sudden  rise  is  said  to  have  been  due  to 
a  popular  furor  awakened  in  his  interest  by  his  having 
been,  a  month  previous,  and  during  poor  health,  stabbed 
in  tlie  breast  with  a  penknife  by  a  French  refugee,  then 
under  examination  in  the  Privy  Council. 

Concerning  Harley  and  this  elevation,  Lee,  Defoe's  most 
comprehensive  biographer,  vol.  i.,  p.  178,  says  :  "  The 
high  station  to  which  Harley  had  raised  himself, — the 
intrigues  attributed  to  him, — the  profession  of  Whig  prin- 
ciples, while  seeking  alliance  in  office  with  high  Tories, — 
the  moderation  of  his  measures,  and  the  evident  efforts  to 
restrain  his  colleagues, — the  secrecy  he  effected  in  all 
transactions  of  a  public  nature,  so  as  to  set  conjecture  at 
defiance, — all  these  constituted  him  a  political  enigma." 


HAKLEY    AND    DEFOE.  405 

And  on  p.  180,  and  which  we  would  have  the  reader  care- 
fully note,  Lee  says  :  "  We  admire  the  discernment  and 
tact  of  the  Minister  who  could  engage,  in  support  of  his 
policy,  the  pens  of  such  men  as  Addison,  Swift,  Defoe, 
Steel',  Arbuthnot,  Prior,  and  Davenant  ;  though  some  of 
them  were  opposed  to  each  other,  personally  and  politi- 
cally." 

\Vith  Baconian  manuscripts  and  with  these  aids  to 
present  the  occasions  for  use  did  Harley  play  the  gigantic 
game  of  chess  which  we  are  to  unfold. 

By  degrees,  however,  the  confidence  of  the  Queen  was 
rem(3ved  from  Harley  to  Bolingbroke,  and  on  July  27th, 
1714,  Harley,  after  a  violent  altercation  with  the  Queen, 
and  which  was  thought  to  have  hastened  her  death,  sur- 
rendered his  staff  as  Lord  Treasurer;  and  on  August  1st, 
1714,  the  Stuart  line  of  kings  was  by  the  death  of  the 
Queen  brought  to  a  close. 

In  the  beginning  of  her  reign  Anne  had  outwardly,  at 
least,  sided  with  the  dominant'party,  the  Wliigs,  towhich 
her  predecessor.  King  William,  belonged.  But  in  her 
heart  she  is  said  to  have  hated  them,  thinking  them  re- 
publicans and  enemies  to  the  Church  of  England,  to  which 
she  professed  to  be  devotedly  attached.  Circumstances 
thus  so  arose  with  Harley  as  to  induce  him  to  act  one  way, 
while  much  of  the  Defoe  literature  lay  quite  in  another  ; 
and  hence  the  need  of  aid  in  handling  "at  least  portions  of 
it,  and  which  was  for  a  time,  as  we  shall  see,  fathered 
upon  no  one. 

The  Tory  party,  knowing  the  Queen's  sympathies,  took 
courage,  and  clergymen  began  to  preach  violent  sermons 
against  toleration'  and  Dissenters  or  Nonconformists. 
The  Queen  was  now  by  petition  asked  to  support  the  more 
intolerant  party,  and  to  rid  herself  of  her  Whig  advisers. 
This  coinciding  with  her  feelings,  she  dismissed  them  all, 
her  great'general,  Marlborough,  excepted,  whose  wife  had 
much  influence  with  her.  But  Marlborough  was  charged 
with  peculation  and  with  using  his  position  to  aniass  a 
private  fortune  ;  and  as  the  Tories  in  the  Parliament 
which  met  in  1710  had  the  majority,  the  Queen  was  pre- 
vailed upon  to  deprive  him  of'  his  office,  whereupon  the 
Whig  influence  at  the  court  was  at  an  end,  and  Lady 
Marlborough's  place  was  transferred  in  the  Queen's  regard 
to  Harley's  cousin,  Mrs.  Masham,  before  mentioned. 


406  HARLEY    AND    DEPOE. 

The  first  important  measure  of  Anne's  reign  went  in 
the  line  of  King  William's  policy,  and  was  a  declaratioii 
of  war  against  France,  the  chief  reason  assigned  being  the 
necessity  of  restraining  the  power  of  France  as  dangerous 
to  the  safety  of  Europe.  War  against  France  was  also 
declared  by  the  Dutch  and  Germans.  In  1702  the  con- 
test began,  and  was  carried  forward  for  some  ten  years  and 
until  1713,  when  the  new  Tory  ministry  resolved  to  bring  it 
to  a  close,  which  was  done  in  the  noted  treaty  of  Utrecht. 

The  question  of  the  union  of  the  two  countries  of  Eng- 
land and  Scotland,  which  since  the  reign  of  James  the 
First  had  been  united  but  in  their  crowns,  was  early  in 
this  reign  brought  prominently  before  the  people.  The 
agitation  of  the  question  had  indeed  begun  in  the  pre- 
yIous  reign.  Now,  as  under  the  reign  of  James  the  First, 
it  met  with  stout  opposition  from  Scotland.  But  Anne 
favored  the  act,  and  it  was  finally  passed  in  1707,  and  as 
of  May  Ist.  Scotland  kept,  however,  her  own  laws  and 
her  own  Presb}terian  Church. 

Issues  permitting  the  use  of  Baconian  manuscripts  by 
slight  modifications  may  be  here  noted. 

The  latter  portion  of  this  r^ign  was  filled  with  Jacobite 
intrigues  to  secure  the  throne  to  the  son  of  the  Catholic 
prince,  the  abdicated  James  the  Second,  called  the  Pre- 
tender, and  hence  a  struggle  to  continue  the  Stuart  line. 
To  his  claims  Anne  was  favorable,  though  she  had  early 
abandoned  the  cause  of  her  father.  See  Britannica  article 
as  to  Anne.  Her  character  is  said  to  have  been  weak 
though  amiable,  and  her  conduct  to  have  been  unduly 
influenced  by  female  friends  and  favorites. 

Upon  Anne's  death  the  Whig  party  was  at  once  restored 
to  power  under  George  the  First,  who  succeeded  her,  and 
Avho  was  the  first  of  the  Hanoverian  line.  Upon  the 
Queen's  death  Harley  retired  to  Herefordshire,  but  in  a 
few  months  his  impeachment  was  decided  upon,  and  in 
July,  1715,  he  was  committed  to  the  Tower,  where  he  was 
often  visited  by  Defoe,  and  where  he  has  been  said  to 
have  composed  Crusoe,  or  at  least  its  first  volume.  See 
Lee,  vol.  i.,  p.  294.  After  nearly  two  years'  imprisonment 
and  on  July  1st,  1717,  he  was  discharged  by  the  House  of 
Lords,  and  allowed  to  resume  his  place  among  the  peers, 
but  he  thereafter  took  little  part  in  public  affairs,  and 
died,  it  is  said,  almost  unnoticed.  May  21st,  1724.     The 


HARLEY   AKD    DEFOE.  407 

noted  maiuLscripts  under  his  control  gave  him,  we  think, 
his  chief  notoriety. 

Macanlay  in  his  History  of  England,  vol.  iv.,  pp.  368- 

72,  says  :  t     ,  •  ,  j. 

"  The  space  which  Eobert  Harley  fills  m  the  history  ot 
three  reigns,  his  elevation,  his  fall,  the  inflnence  which, 
at  a  great  crisis,  he  exercised  on  the  politics  of  all  Europe, 
the  close  intimacy  in  which  he  lived  with  some  of  the 
greatest  wits  and  poets  of  his  time,  and  the  frequent  re- 
currence of  his  name  in  the  works  of  Swift,  Pope,  Arbuth- 
not,  and  Prior,  must  always  make  him  an  object  of  inter- 
est. Yet  the  man  himself  was  of  all  men  the  least  inter- 
esting. There  is  indeed  a  whimsical  contrast  between  the 
very  ordinary  qualities  of  his  mind  and  the  very  extraor- 
dinary vicissitudes  of  his  fortune. 

"  He  was  the  heir  of  a  Puritan  family.  His  father.  Sir 
Edward  Harley,  had  been  conspicuous  among  patriots  of 
the  Long  Parliament,  had  commanded  a  regiment  under 
Essex,  had  after  the  Kestoration  been  an  active  opponent 
of  the  Court,  had  supported  the  Exclusion  Bill,  had  har- 
bored dissenting  preachers,  had  frequented  meeting  houses, 
and  had  made  himself  so  obnoxious  to  the  ruling  powers 
that,  at  the  time  of  the  Western  Insurrection,  he  had 
been  placed  under  arrest,  and  his  house  had  been  searched 
for  arms.  When  the  Dutch  army  were  marching  from 
Torbay  towards  London,  he  and  his  eldest  son  Ptobert 
declared  for  the  Prince  of  Orange  and  a  free  Parliament, 
raised  a  large  body  of  horse,  took  possession  of  Worcester, 
and  evinced  their  zeal  against  Popery  by  publicly  breaking 
to  pieces,  in  the  High  Street  of  that  city,  a  piece  of  sculp- 
ture which  to  rigid  precisions  seemed  idolatrous.  Soon 
after  the  Convention  became  a  Parliament  Robert  Harley 
was  sent  up  to  Westminster  as  member  for  a  Cornish 
borough.  His  conduct  was  such  as  might  have  been  ex- 
pected from  his  birth  and  education.  He  was  a  Whig, 
and  indeed  an  intolerant  and  vindictive  Whig.  Nothing 
could  satisfy  him  but  a  general  proscription  of  the  Tones. 
His  name  appears  in  the  list  of  those  members  who  voted 
for  the  Sacheverell  clause  ;  and,  at  the  general  election 
which  took  place  in  the  spring  of  1090,  the  party  which 
he  had  persecuted  made  great  exertions  to  keep  him  out 
of  the  House  of  Commons.  A  cry  was  raised  that  the 
Harleys  were  mortal  enemies  of  the  Church  ;  and  this  cry 


408  HARLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

produced  so  much  effect  that  it  was  with  difficulty  that 
any  of  them  could  obtain  a  seat.  Such  was  the  commence- 
ment of  the  public  life  of  a  man  whose  name,  a  quarter  of 
a  century  later,  was  inseparably  coupled  with  the  High 
Church  in  the  acclamations  of  Jacobiie  mobs. 

"  Soon,  however,  it  began  to  be  observed  that  in  every 
division  Harley  was  in  the  company  of  those  gentlemen 
who  held  his  political  opinions  in  abhorrence  :  nor  was 
this  strange  :  for  he  affected  the  character  of  a  Whig  of 
the  old  pattern  ;  and  before  the  Revolution  it  had  always 
been  supposed  that  a  Whig  was  a  person  who  watched 
with  jealousy  every  exertion  of  the  prerogative,  who  was 
slow  to  loose  the  strings  of  the  public  purse,  and  who  was 
extreme  to  mark  the  fault  of  the  ministers  of  the  Crown. 
Such  a  Whig  Harley  still  professed  to  be.  He  did  not 
admit  that  the  recent  change  of  dynasty  had  made  any 
change  in  the  duties  of  a  representative  of  the  people. 
The  new  government  ought  to  he  observed  as  suspiciously, 
checked  as  severely,  and  supjilied  as  sparingly  as  the  old 
one.  Acting  on  these  principles,  he  necessarily  found 
himself  acting  with  men  whose  principles  were  diametri- 
cally opposed  to  his.  He  liked  to  thwart  the  King  :  they 
liked  to  thwart  the  usurper  :  the  consequence  was  that, 
whenever  there  was  an  opportunity  for  thwarting  William, 
the  Koundheads  stayed  in  the  House  or  went  into  the 
lobby  in  company  with  the  whole  crowd  of  Cavaliers. 

"  So  on  Harley  acquired  the  authority  of  a  leader  among 
those  with  whom,  notwithstanding  wide  differences  of 
opinion,  he  ordinarily  voted.  His  influence  in  Parlia- 
ment was  indeed  altogether  out  of  proportion  to  his  abil- 
ities. His  intellect  was  both  small  and  slow.  He  was 
unable  to  take  a  large  view  of  any  subject.  He  never 
acquired  the  art  of  expressing  himself  in  public  with 
fluency  and  perspicuity.  To  the  end  of  his  life  he  re- 
mained a  tedious,  hesitating  and  confused  speaker.  He 
had  none  of  the  external  grace  of  an  orator.  His  coun- 
tenance was  heavy  ;  his  figure  mean  and  somewhat  de- 
formed, and  his  gestures  uncouth.  Yet  he  was  heard 
with  respect.  For,  such  as  his  mind  was,  it  had  been 
assiduously  cultivated.  His  youth  had  been  studious  ; 
and  to  the  last  he  continued  to  love  books  and  the  society 
of  men  of  genius  and  learning.  Indeed  he  aspired  to  the 
character  of  a  wit  and  a  poet,  and  occasionally  employed 


HAKLEY    AND    DEFOE.  409 

houis  which  should  have  heen  very  differeutly  spent  in 
composing  verses  more  execrable  than  the  bellman's.  His 
time,  however,  was  not  ahvays  so  absurdly  wasted.  He 
had  that  sort  of  industry  and  that  sort  of  exactness  which 
would  have  made  him  a  respectable  antiquary  or  King  of 
Arms.  His  taste  led  him  to  plod  among  old  records  ; 
and  in  that  age  it  was  only  by  plodding  among  old  records 
that  any  man  could  obtain  any  accurate  and  extensive 
knowledge  of  the  law  of  Parliament.  Having  few  rivals 
in  this  laborious  and  unattractive  pursuit,  he  soon  began 
to  be  regarded  as  an  oracle  on  questions  of  form  and 
privilege.  His  moral  character  added  not  a  little  to  his 
influence.  He  had  indeed  great  vices  ;  but  they  were  not 
of  a  scandalous  kind.  He  was  not  to  be  corrupted  by 
money.  His  private  life  was  regular.  No  illicit  amour 
was  imputed  to  him  even  bv  satirists.  Ga  nbling  he  held 
in  aversion  ;  and  it  was  said  that  he  never  passed  "White's, 
then  the  favorite  haunt  of  noble  sharpers  and  dupes, 
without  an  exclamation  of  anger.  His  practice  of  fluster- 
ing himself  daily  with  ckiret  was  hardly  considered  as  a 
fault  by  his  contemporaries.  His  knowledge,  his  gravity 
and  his  independent  position  gained  for  him  the  ear  of 
the  House  ;  and  even  his  bad  speaking  was,  in  some  sense,  an 
advantage  to  him.  For  people  are  A^ery  loath  to  admit  that 
the  same  man  can  unite  very  different  kinds  of  excellence. 
It  is  soothing  to  envy  to  believe  that  what  is  splendid 
cannot  be  solid,  that  what  is  clear  cannot  be  profound. 
Very  slowlv  was  the  public  brought  to  acknowledge  that 
Mansfield  was  a  great  jurist,  and  that  Burke  was  a  great 
master  of  political  science.  Montague  was  a  brilliant 
rhetorician,  and,  therefore,  thcugh  he  had  ten  times 
Harley's  capacity  for  the  driest  parts  of  business,  was 
represented  by  detractors  as  a  superficial,  prating  pre- 
tender. But  from  the  absence  of  show  in  Harley's  dis- 
courses many  people  inferred  chat  there  must  be  much 
substance  ;  and  he  was  pronounced  to  be  a  deep-read, 
deep  thinking  gentleman,  not  a  fine  talker,  but  fitter  to 
direct  affairs  of  state  than  all  fine  talkers  in  the  world. 
This  character  he  long  supported  with  that  cunning  which 
is  frequently  found  in  company  with  ambitious  and  un- 
quiet mediocrity.  He  constantly  had,  even  with  his  best 
friends,  an  air  of  mystery  and  reserve  which  seemed  to 
indicate  that  he  knew  some  monstrous  secret,  and  that 


410  HAllLEY    AND    DEEOB. 

his  mind  was  laboring  v/itli  some  vast  design.  In  this 
way  lie  got  and  long  kept  a  high  reputation  for  wisdom. 
It  was  not  till  that  reputation  had  made  him  an  Earl,  a 
Knight  of  the  Garter,  Lord  High  Treasurer  of  England, 
and  master  of  the  fate  of  Europe,  that  his  admirers  began 
to  find  out  that  he  was  really  a  dull  puzzle-headed  man. 

"  Soon  after  the  general  election  of  1690,  Harley,  gen- 
erally voting  with  the  Tories,  began  to  turn  Tory.  The 
change  was  so  gradual  as  to  be  almost  imperceptible,  but 
was  not  the  less  real.  He  early  began  to  hold  the  Tory 
doctrine  that  England  ought  to  confine  herself  to  a  mari- 
time war.  He  early  felt  the  true  Tory  antipathy  to  Dutch- 
men and  to  moneyed  men.  The  antipathy  to  Dissenters, 
wliich  was  necessary  to  the  completeness  of  the  character, 
came  much  later.  At  length  the  transformation  was  com- 
plete ;  and  the  old  hunter  of  conventicles  became  an  in- 
tolerable High  Churchman.  Yet  to  the  last  the  traces  of  his 
early  breeding  would  now  and  then  show  themselves  ;  and, 
while  he  acted  after  the  fashion  of  Laud,  he  sometimes 
wrote  in  the  style  of  Praise  God  Barebones. " 

Tliis  description  Macaulay  follows  with  this  foot-note  : 
"  In  a  letter  dated  Sept.  12,  1709,  a  short  time  before  he 
was  brought  into  power  on  the  shoulders  of  the  High 
Church  mob,  he  says  :  '  My  soul  has  been  among  lions, 
even  the  sons  of  men,  whose  teeth  are  spears  and  arrows, 
and  their  tongues  sharp  swords.  But  I  learn  how  good 
it  is  to  wait  on  the  Lord,  and  to  possess  one's  soul  in 
peace.'  The  letter  was  to  Carstairs.  I  doubt  whether 
Harley  would  have  canted  thus  if  he  had  been  writing  to 
Attcrbury." 

It  was  not  until  after  Harley's  death  that  many  impor- 
tant Baconian  manuscripts  came  to  light.  "  Bacon's 
Notes  on  the  State  of  Europe"  did  not  appear  until  1734, 
and  they  were  first  published  in  the  supplement  to 
Stephens'  collection,  concerning  which  Mr.  Spedding 
says  that  Stephens,  having  died  before  its  publication,  he 
does  not  feel  satisfied  to  ascribe  it  to  Bacon.  He  in  jus- 
tice, however,  gives  what  Stephens  says  in  the  preface  to 
the  work,  and  from  which  we  quote  :  "  I  laid  aside  all 
thoughts  of  troubling  myself  (U-  others  in  the  same  kind 
until  the  Eight  Honorable  the  Earl  of  Oxford  was  pleased 
to  put  into  my  hands  some  neglected  manuscripts  and 
loose  papers,   to   see   whether  any  of  the  Lord   Bacon's 


HARLKY    AND    DEFOE.  -ill 

compositions  lay  concealed  there,  that  were  fit  to  be  pub- 
lished. Upon  the  perusal  1  found  some  of  them  written  and 
others  amended  by  his  lordship's  own  hand,  and  believed 
that  all  of  them  had  been  in  possession  of  Dr.  Kawley,  ms 
lordship's  chaplain  and  faithful  editor  of  many  of  his 
works  I  found  that  several  of  the  treatises  had  been 
published  by  him,  and  that  others,  certainly  genuine, 
which  had  not,  were  fit  to  be  transcribed  and  so  pteserved, 
if  not  divulged."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  1.,  p.  16.)  Mote 
also  that  Bacon's  mentioned  letter  to  Qneen  Elizabeth  in 
1599,  concerning  his  Tub  did  not  come  to  light  un.il  atter 
Harl'ey's  death, 'nor  until  1729.  •         .  ,i     -n„p„^ 

Our  position,  then,  is  that  at  the  opening  of  the  Detoe 
period  Baconian  manuscripts,  wherein  was  wrapped  the 
most  gigantic  enterprise  of  modern  times,  had  never  as 
yet  seen^the  light,  and  of  which  fact  Harley  was  absolutely 
certain.  Bacon,  in  fact,  made  his  life  but  as  the  seed-bed 
in  which  to  plant  vast  designs. 

The  actor  Defoe  was  twenty-six  years  of  age  when 
appeared  the  first  published  article  with  which  ins  name 
has  become  associated.'  This  paper  was  issued  m  1687, 
the  year  prior  to  the  mentioned  abdication  by  James  the 
Second  ;  and  it  is  said  to  have  had  a  tendency  to  set  tiie 
Nonconformists  or  Dissenters  at  war  with  the  Lnglisli 
Church  It  consisted  of  a  double- columned  quarto  sheet, 
without  date,  title-page,  signature,  name  of  printer,  or 
place  of  publication.  James  had  at  this  time  issued  a 
declaration  of  religious  tolerance,  and  with  the  view,  it  is 
said,  of  more  easily  overcoming  Protestant  resistance  to 
Papal  encroachments.  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  said  to  bo 
the  work  of  a  Nonconformist,  appeared  some  earlier, 
thouo-h  it  is  also  said  that  it  is  not  definitely  known  in 
what  year  it  first  appeared.^  The  Puritan  influences  under 
which  Lord  Bacon  was  born  and  reared  have  already  been 
recounted,   as  have  his  intentions  to  bring  forth  covertly 

'  But  in  the  Britarinica  article  on  Defoe  it  is  said  that  in  the  older 
catalogues  of  his  works  two  pamphlets  are  attributed  to  him  betore 
the  accession  of  James  the  Second,  the  first  entiled^^  A''"^/!"' 
Gmpefiowiiorum"  (a  satire  on  the  clergy)  and  the  other     A  treatise 

aa;ainst  the  Turks."  ,      -r,  •     j    ^i      /-»     i  ^„  i,nri 

^  As  early  as  1667  William  Penn,  the  Friend,  the  Quaker,  had 
begun  to  put  forth  important  papers  in  this  direction,  and  he  hnally 
became  the  great  eciuitable  lawgiver  to  Pennsylvania  and  other  ot 
the  American  colonies. 


412  HARLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

certain  portions  of  his  writings.  While  during  his  life  he 
outwardly  conformed  to  the  Established  Chnrcli  and  was 
its  great  harrnonizer — which  otherwise  he  could  not  have 
been — he  still  ever  sought  to  bend  or  shaj^e  its  course. 
After  his  fall  he  undertook,  as  we  shall  claim,  subtle 
methods  in  which  to  bring  forth  thwarted  ends,  and  as 
well  in  religions  as  in  political  matters,  and  with  the 
jjarticular  aim  of  beating  back  Papal  and  Pagan  influences, 
which  he  ever  so  mnch  feared.  These  manuscripts  may 
and  unquestionably  did  consist  of  many  composed  before 
as  well  as  subsequent  to  his  fall,  and  the  commingling  of 
them  in  the  handling  helped  the  better  to  break  relations. 

James  the  Second,  a  grandson  of  James  the  First,  was 
the  first  Catholic  prince  that  had  ruled  England  since  the 
days  of  Mary  Tudor.'  His  brother  Charles,  whom  he 
succeeded,  had  manifested  strong  tendencies  in  this  direc- 
tion during  his  reign,  and  this  greatly  increased  the  dis- 
contents of  the  kingdom,  and  upon  his  death-bed  he 
openly  avowed  his  belief  in  that  faith. 

James  began  his  reign  by  going  openly  and  in  royal 
state  to  mass,  and  from  the  first  showed  his  intention  to 
restore  the  ancient  or  Koman  faith.  Finding  the  Parlia- 
ment an  obstacle, "he  at  once  dismissed  it,  and  never  called 
another.  He  then  promoted  Papists  to  the  highest  offices 
in  the  State,  sent  an  ambassador  to  Eome,  and  filled  the 
official  stations  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge  with  those  of  his 

'  Did  Bacon  malce  a  guess  as  to  James'  issue  by  the  means  ex- 
pressed by  Warwick  in  tlie  play  of  Henry  IV.,  part  2,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2, 
p.  372,  where  we  liavc  : 

"  Wa7:  There  is  a  liistory  in  all  men's  lives, 
Figuring  the  nature  of  the  times  deceas'd  ; 
The  which  observ'd,  a  muu  may  prophesy, 
With  a  near  aim,  of  the  main  chance  of  things 
As  yet  not  come  to  life  ;  which  in  their  seeds, 
And  weak  beginnings,  lie  inireasured. 
Such  things  become  the  hatch  and  brood  of  time  ; 
And,  by  the  necessary  form  of  this. 
King  Richard  might  create  a  perfect  guess. 
That  great  Northumbeiland,  then  false  to  him, 
Would,  of  that  seed,  grow  to  a  greater  falseness  ; 
Which  should  not  tind  a  ground  to  root  upon, 
Unless  on  you." 

As  to  the  word  "  hatch,"  here  used,  Bacon,  in  his  History  of  Henry 
the  Seventh,  says  :  "In  her  witJidra  wing-chamber  the  conspiracy 
against  King  Richard  tlie  Third  had  been  hatched." 


IIAKLET    AXD    DEFOE. 


413 


own  faith.  Tliese  acts  called  more  sharply  forth  the  Foe 
or  Defoe  literatiti-e,  and  which  was  designed  to  awaken 
the   Nonconformists   or   stanch   Protestant   element   into 

From  the  publication  of  the  mentioned  article,  in  1G87, 
until  Defoe's  arrest,  in  1703,  this  literature,  and  large  in 
amount,  was  fathered  upon  no  one.  Having  upon  his 
arrest,  and  in  order  to  regain  his  liberty,  confessed  him- 
self the  author  of  a  most  subtle  and  adroitly  written 
pamphlet,  entitled  '"The  Shortest  Way  with  the  Dissent- 
ers,'' and  aimed  quite  in  reverse  of  its  title,  his  relations 
to  the  intermediate  writings  soon  became  fixed.  By  the 
establishment  in  the  public  mind  of  a  few  of  these  arti- 
cles as  his,  denial  was  indeed  useless,  as  they  all  possess 
that  oneness  as  to  stvle,  vocabulary,  sentence  framework, 
and  range  of  knowledge  as  to  leave  little  room  for  cavil. 
And  we  may  thus  see  how,  occasionally,  circumstances 
may  so  arrange  themselves  as  to  render  a  false  position 
impregnable,  or  impossible  to  controvert  or  correct,  as 
what  is  once  formed  in  the  popular  mind  is  hard,  even 
next  to  impossible  to  eradicate,  as  is  well  known  ;  and 
hence  thereafter  but 'slight  cloaking  was  necessary. 
And  so  Defoe,  after  his  arrest  and  interview  with 
Harley,  soon  to  be  considered,  and  which  was  doubtless 
his  first  connection  with  these  writings,  fell  in  and  swam 
with  the  current,  and  doubtless  found  it  largely  for  his 
interest  to  do  so.  From,  this  moment  he  was  a  tool  of 
Robert  Harley,  and  so  became  one  of  the  actors  in  the 
*  great  scheme. 

In  an  article  said  to  have  been  published  by  Defoe  at 
the  age  of  fifty-four,  at  which  time  his  political  career  was 
thought  to  have  ended,  and  entitled  "  An  Appeal  to 
Honor  and  Justice,"  (was  it  his  own  composition?)  and 
designed,  it  has  been  said,  to  aid  Harley  in  his  defence  m 
1715,  at  which  time  it  appeared,  he  says,  or  is  made  to 

say  : 

"  I  will  make  no  reflections  upon  the  treatment  1  met 
with  from  the  people  I  suffered  for,  or  how  I  was  aban- 

'  Earlier  Penn  had  put  forth  anonymously  important  papers  teach- 
ing the  Church.  As  we  have  no  hesitancy  in  saying  that  the  "  Max- 
inis"  attributed  to  him  are  a  product  of  Bacon's  pen,  we  would 
therefore  have  it  investigated— our  time  not  having  as  yet  permitted 
us  to  do  so— as  to  whetlier  he  was  also  an  actor  in  the  great  scheme. 


414  HARLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

doned  even  in  my  sufferings  at  the  same  time  that  they 
acknowledged  the  service  I  had  been  to  their  cause  ;  but 
I  must  mention  it  to  let  you  know  that  while  I  lay  friend- 
less and  distressed  in  the  prison  of  Newgate,  my  family 
ruined,  and  myself  without  hope  of  deliverance,  a  message 
was  brought  me  from  a  person  of  Honour,  who,  till  that 
time,  1  had  never  had  the  least  acquaintance  with,  or 
knowledge  of,  other  than  by  fame,  or  by  sight,  as  we 
know  men  of  quality  by  seeing  them  on  public  occasions. 
I  gave  no  present  answer  to  the  person  who  brought  it, 
having  not  duly  weighed  the  import  of  the  message.  The 
message  was  by  word  of  mouth  thus  :  '  Pray,  ask  that 
gentleman  what  I  can  do  for  him  ?  '  But  in  return  to 
this  kind  and  generous  message,  I  immediately  took  my 
pen  and  ink,  and  wrote  the  story  of  the  blind  man  in  the 
Gospel,  who  followed  our  Saviour,  and  to  whom  our 
blessed  Lord  put  the  question,  '  What  wilt  thou  that  I 
should  do  unto  thee?  '  Who,  as  if  he  had  made  it  strange 
that  such  a  question  should  be  asked,  or  as  if  he  had  said 
that  I  am  blind,  and  yet  ask  me  what  thou  shalt  do  for 
me?  My  answer  is  plain  in  my  misery,  'Lord,  that  I 
may  receive  my  sight.' 

"  I  need  not  make  the  application.  And  from  this 
time,  although  I  lay  four  months  in  prison  after  this,  and 
heard  no  more  of  it,  yet  from  this  time,  as  I  learned  after- 
wards, this  noble  person  made  it  his  business  to  have  my 
case  presented  to  her  majesty  and  methods  taken  for  my 
deliverance. 

"  I  mention  this  point  because  I  am  no  more  to  forget 
the  obligation  ujjon  me  to  the  Queen,  than  to  my  first 
benefactor. 

"  When  her  majesty  came  to  have  the  truth  of  the  case 
laid  before  her,  I  soon  felt  the  effects  of  her  royal  goodness 
and  compassion.  And  first,  her  majesty  declared,  that 
she  left  all  that  matter  to  a  certain  person,  and  did  not 
think  he  could  have  used  me  in  such  a  manner.  Probably 
these  words  may  seem  imaginary  to  some,  and  •the  speak- 
ing of  them  to  me  of  no  value,  and  so  they  would  have 
been  had  they  not  been  followed  with  further  and  more 
convincing  proof  of  what  they  imported,  which  were 
these,  that  her  majesty  was  pleased  particularly  to  inquire 
into  my  circumstances  and  family,  and  by  Lord  Treasurer 
Godolphiti  to  send  a  considerable  supply  to  my  wife  and 


HARLEY    AN^D    DEFOE.  415 

family,  and  to  send  to  me  the  prison  money  to  pay  my 
fine  and  the  expenses  of  my  discharge.  Whether  this  be 
a  just  foundation  let  my  enemies  Judge.  Here  is  the 
foundation  on  which  I  built  my  first  sense  of  duty  to  her 
majesty's  person,  and  the  indelible  bond  of  gratitude  to 
my  first  benefactor. 

"  Clratitude  and  fidelity  are  inseparable  from  an  honest 
man.  But  to  be  thus  obliged  by  a  stranger,  by  a  man  of 
quality  and  honor,  and  after  that  by  the  sovereign  under 
whose  administration  I  was  suffering,  let  any  one  put  him- 
self in  my  stead,  and  examine  upon  what  principles  I 
could  ever  act  against  either  such  a  Queen,  or  such  a 
benefactor  ;  and  what  must  my  own  heart  reproach  me 
with,  what  blushes  must  have  covered  my  face  when  I  had 
looked  in,  and  called  myself  ungrateful  to  him  that  saved 
me  thus  from  distresses,  or  her  that  fetched  me  out  of  the 
dungeon,  and  gave  my  family  relief?  Let  any  man  who 
knows  what  principles  are,  what  engagements  of  honor 
and  gratitude  are,  make  this  case  his  own,  and  say  what 
I  should  have  done  more  or  less  than  I  have  done, 

"  I  must  go  on  a  little  with  the  detail  of  the  obligation, 
and  then  I  shall  descend  to  relate  what  I  have  done  and 
what  I  have  not  done  in  the  case. 

"  Being  delivered  from  the  distresses  I  was  in,  her 
majesty,  who  was  not  satisfied  to  do  me  good  by  a  single 
act  of  her  bounty,  had  the  goodness  to  think  of  taking 
me  into  her  service,  and  I  had  the  honor  to  be  engaged  in 
several  honorable  though  secret  services,  by  the  inter- 
position of  my  first  benefactor  who  then  appeared  as  a 
member  in  the  public  administration. 

"  I  had  the  happiness  to  discharge  myself  in  all  these 
trusts  so  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  those  who  emploj'ed 
me,  though  oftentimes  with  difficulty  and  danger,  that 
my  Lord  Treasurer  Godolphin,  whose  memory  I  have 
always  honored,  was  pleased  to  continue  his  favor  to  me, 
and  to  do  me  all  good  offices  with  her  majesty,  even  after 
an  unhappy  breach  had  separated  him  from  my  first  bene- 
factor, the  particulars  of  which  may  not  be  improper  to 
relate  ;  and  as  it  is  not  an  injustice  to  any,  so  I  hope  it 
may  not  be  offensive. 

"  AVhen  upon  tluit  fatal  breach,  the  Secretary  of  State 
was  dismissed  from  the  service,  1  looked  upon  myself  as 
lost  ;  it  being  a  general  rule  in  such  cases,  when  a  great 


41G  HARLEY    AXD    DEFOE. 

official  falls,  that  all  who  came  in  by  his  interest  fall  with 
him  ;  and  resolving  never  to  abandon  the  fortnnes  of  the 
man  to  whom  I  owed  so  much  of  my  own,  I  quitted  the 
nsnal  applications  which  I  had  made  to  my  Lord  Treas- 
urer." 

Here  follows  a  statement  showing  that  after  his  first 
benefactor,  Harley — that  is,  the  Earl  of  Oxford — had  been 
removed  from  his  office  as  Secretary  of  State,  and  which 
was  in  1708,  as  we  have  seen,  he  still  requested  Defoe  to 
continue  his  relations  with  the  Lord  Treasurer  Godolphin, 
who  thereafter  a  second  time  introduced  him  to  the  Queen, 
whereupon  he  was  sent  upon  a  secret  employment  into 
Scotland,  and  after  showing  his  obligations  in  this  he 
continues  : 

"  And  this  brings  me  to  the  affirmative,  and  inquire 
what  the  matters  of  fact  are  ;  what  I  have  done,  or  have 
not  done,  on  account  of  these  obligations  which  I  am 
under. 

"  It  is  a  general  suggestion,  and  is  affirmed  with  such 
assurance,  that  they  tell  me  it  is  m  vain  to  contradict  it, 
that  I  have  been  employed  by  the  Earl  of  Oxford,  late 
Lord  Treasurer,  in  the  late  disputes  about  public  affairs, 
to  write  for  him,  or,  to  put  it  into  their  own  particulars, 
have  written  by  his  directions,  taken  the  materials  from 
him,  been  dictated  to  or  instructed  by  him,  or  by  other 
persons  for  him,  by  his  order,  and  the  like  ;  and  that  I 
have  received  a  pension  or  salary,  or  payment  from  his 
Lordship  for  such  services  as  these.  It  was  impossible, 
since  these  things  have  been  so  confidently  affirmed,  but 
that,  if  1  could  put  it  into  words  that  would  more  fully 
express  the  meaning  of  these  people,  I  profess  I  would  do 
it.  One  would  think  that  some  evidence  might  be  pro- 
duced, some  facts  might  appear,  some  one  or  other  might 
be  found  that  could  speak  of  certain  knowledge.  To  say 
things  have  been  carried  too  closely  to  be  discovered,  is 
sajing  nothing,  for  then  they  must  own  that  it  is  not  dis- 
covered ;  and  how  then  can  they  affirm  it  as  they  do,  with 
such  an  assurance  as  nothing  ought  to  be  affirmed  by 
honest  men,  unless  they  were  able  to  prove  it  ? 

"  To  speak  then  to  the  fact.  Were  the  reproach  upon 
me  only  in  this  particular,  I  would  not  mention  it.  I 
should  not  think  it  a  reproach  to  be  directed  by  a  man  to 
whom  the  Queen  had  at  that  time  entrusted  the  adminis- 


IIARLEY    AXD    DEFOE.  417 

tration  of  the  government.  But,  as  it  is  a  reproach  upon 
his  Lordship,  justice  requires  that  I  do  right  in  this  case. 
The  thing  is  true  or  false,  I  would  recommend  it  to  those 
who  would  be  called  honest  men,  to  consider  but  one 
thing,  viz.,  what  if  it  should  not  be  true?  Can  they 
justify  the  injury  done  to  that  person,  or  to  any  person 
concerned  ?  If  it  cannot  be  proved,  if  no  vestiges  appear 
to  ground  it  upon,  how  can  they  charge  men  upon  rumors 
and  reports,  and  join  to  run  down  men's  characters  by 
the  stream  clamor."  (Defoe's  Works,  Talboy  ed.,  vol. 
XX.,  pp.  11-18,  of  the  mentioned  article.) 

Here  follow  certain  denials  as  to  his  having  written  for 
Harley,  and  which  indeed  he  could  truthfully  make,  as 
the  writings,  if  our  claims  be  true,  were  in  fact  not  his, 
and  though  possibly,  yet  not  probably,  in  any  way  under 
his  control.  This  apology  was  probably  prepared  by 
Harley  himself  and  from  material  to  which  we  shall 
soon  have  occasion  to  allude,  and  either  prior  to  or  soon 
after  he  was  sent  to  the  Tower. 

This  appeal  ends  aln-uptly  by  the  following  notice  from 
the  publisher:  "While  this  was  at  the  press,  and  the 
copy  thus  far  published,  the  author  was  seized  with  a  vio- 
lent fit  of  apoplexy,  whereby  he  was  disabled  finishing 
what  he  designed  in  his  further  defence  ;  and  continuing 
now  for  above  sivX  weeks  in  a  weak  and  languishing  con- 
dition, neither  able  to  go  on  nor  likely  to  recover,  at  least 
in  any  short  time,  his  friends  thought  it  not  fit  to  delav 
the  publication  of  this  any  longer.  If  he  recovers  he  may 
be  able  to  finish  what  he  begun  ;  if  not,  it  is  the  opinion 
of  most  that  know  him  that  the  treatment  which  he  here 
complains  of,  and  some  others  that  he  would  have  spoken 
of,  have  been  the  apparent  cause  of  his  disaster." 

It  was  never  completed,  and  the  far-off  echo  answers, 
Why  ?  All  of  Defoe's  biographers  unite  in  saying  that 
this  paper  contains  our  chief  source  of  information  touch- 
ing the  man  Defoe.  Outside  of  its  statements  very,  very 
little  is  known  of  him.  And  yet  Lee,  vol.  i.,  p.  236,  says  : 
"  The  biographers  of  Defoe,  not  knowing  at  what  time  in 
1715  this  book  was  published,  have  experienced  great 
difficulty  in  explaining  some  of  its  contents  consistently 
with  the  period  at  which  other  works  by  him  were  evi- 
dently composed  between  the  death  of  the  Queen  and  the 
publication  of  this  'Appeal.'  " 
14 


418  HAKLEY    AND    DEFOE, 

Either  to  explain  away  this  difficulty  or  othenvise,  it  is 
stated  that  Defoe  disclaimed  its  authorship.  (See  Lee, 
vol.  i.,  pp.  239-42. 

As  we  would  say  a  word  touching  certain  pamphlets 
mentioned  in  it,  we  from  pp.  22-25  further  quote  : 

"  While  I  speak  of  these  things  in  this  manner,  I  have 
infinite  reproaches  from  clamorous  pens,  of  being  in  the 
French  interest,  being  hired  and  bribed  to  defend  a  bad 
I^eace,  and  the  like,  and  most  of  this  was  upon  the  sup- 
position of  my  writing,  or  being  the  author  of,  abundance 
of  pamphlets  which  came  out  every  day,  and  which  I  had 
no  hand  in.  And  indeed,  as  I  shall  observe  again  by  and 
by,  this  was  one  of  the  greatest  pieces  of  injustice  that 
could  be  done  me,  and  which  I  labor  still  under  without 
any  redress  ;  that  whenever  any  piece  came  out  which  is 
not  liked,  I  am  immediately  charged  with  being  the  au- 
thor ;  and  very  often  the  first  knowledge  I  have  had  of  a 
book  being  published  has  been  from  seeing  myself  abused 
for  being  the  author  of  it,  in  some  other  pamphlet  pub- 
lished in  answer  to  it. 

"  Feeling  myself  treated  in  this  manner  I  declined 
Avriting  at  all,  and  for  a  great  part  of  a  year  never  set  pen 
to  paper  except  in  the  public  paper  called  the  Review. 
After  this  I  was  long  absent  in  the  north  of  England  ;  and 
observing  the  insoJency  of  the  Jacobiter  party,  and  how 
they  insinuated  fine  things  into  the  heads  of  the  common 
people,  of  the  right  and  claim  of  the  Pretender,  and  of  the 
great  things  he  would  do  for  us  if  he  were  to  come  in  ;  of 
his  being  to  turn  a  Protestant,  of  his  being  resolved  to 
maintain  our  liberties,  support  our  friends,  give  liberty  to 
dissenters,  and  the  like  ;  and  finding  that  the  people 
began  to  be  deluded,  and  that  the  Jacobites  gained  ground 
among  them  by  these  insinuations,  I  thought  it  the  best 
service  I  could  do  the  Protestant  interest,  and  the  best 
way  to  open  people's  eyes  to  the  Protestant  succession,  if 
I  took  some  course  effectually  to  alarm  the  people  with 
what  they  really  ought  to  expect,  if  the  Pretender  should 
come  to  be  King.  And  this  made  me  set  pen  to  paper 
again. 

"  And  this  brings  me  to  the  affirmative  part,  or  to  what 
really  I  have  done  ;  and  in  this,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  I  have 
one  of  the  foulest,  most  unjust,  and  unchristian  clamors 
to  complain  of,  that  any  man  has  suffered,  I  believe,  since 


HARLEY    AND    DEFOE.  419 

the  days  of  the  tyranny  of  King  James  the  Second.  The 
fact  is  thus  : 

"  In  order  to  detect  the  influence  of  Jacobite  emissaries, 
as  above,  the  first  thing  I  wrote  was  a  small  tract,  called 
'  A  Seasonable  Caution  ;  '  a  book  sincerely  vvrittcn  to  open 
the  eyes  of  the  poor,  ignorant  country  people,  and  to  warn 
them  against  the  subtle  insinuations  of  the  emissaries  of 
the  Pretender  ;  and  that  it  might  be  effectual  to  that  pur- 
pose, I  prevailed  with  several  of  my  friends  to  give  them 
away  among  the  poor  people,  all  over  England,  especially 
in  the  north  ;  and  several  thousands  were  actually  given 
away,  the  price  being  reduced  so  low,  that  the  bare  ex- 
pense of  paper  and  press  was  only  preserved,  that  every 
one  might  be  convinced  that  nothing  of  gain  was  designed, 
but  a  sincere  endeavor  to  do  a  public  good,  and  assist  to 
keep  the  people  entirely  in  the  interest  of  the  Protestant 
succession. 

"  Next  to  this,  and  with  the  same  sincere  design,  I 
wrote  two  pamphlets,  one  entitled,  '  What  if  the  Pretender 
Should  Come  ?  '  the  other,  '  Reasons  against  the  Succession 
of  the  House  of  Hanover.' 

"  Nothing  can  be  more  plain  than  that  the  titles  of 
these  books  were  amusements,  in  order  to  put  the  books 
into  the  hands  of  those  people  whom  the  Jacobites  had 
deluded,  and  to  bring  them  to  be  read  by  them.' 

"  Previous  to  what  I  shall  further  say  of  these  books, 
I  must  observe  that  all  these  books  met  with  so  general  a 
reception  and  approbation  among  those  who  were  most 
sincere  for  the  Protestant  succession,  that  they  sent  them 
all  over  the  kingdom,  and  recommended  them  to  the 
people  as  excellent  and  useful  pieces  ;  insomuch  that  about 
seven  editions  of  them  were  printed,  and  they  were  printed 
in  other  places.  And  I  do  protest,  had  his  present  maj- 
esty, then  elector  of  Hanover,  given  me  a  thousand  pounds 
to  have  written  for  the  interest  of  his  succession,  and  to 
expose  and  render  the  interest  of  the  Pretender  odious  and 
ridiculous,  I  could  have  done  nothing  more  effectual  to 
these  purposes  than  these  books  were. 

"  And  that  I  may  make  my  worst  enemies,  to  whom 
this  is  a  fair  appeal,  judges  of  this,  I  must  take  leave,  by 
and  by,  to  repeat  some  of  the  expressions  in  these  books, 

'  Tlie  procurement  of  instruction  by  means  of  device,  in  these 
writings,  has  already  been  touched  upon.     And  see  p.  68. 


420  HARLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

which  were  direct  and  need  no  explanation,  which  I  think 
no  man  that  was  iu  the'  interest  of  tne  Pretender,  nay, 
which  no  man  but  one  who  was  entirely  in  the  interest  of 
the  Hanover  succession  could  write, 

"  Nothing  can  be  severer  in  the  fate  of  a  man  than  to 
act  so  between  two  parties,  that  both  sides  shall  be  pro- 
voked against  him.  It  is  certain,  that  Jacobites  cursed 
those  tracts  and  the  author,  and  when  they  came  to  read 
them,  being  deceived  by  their  titles  according  to  the  de- 
sign, they  threw  them  by  with  the  greatest  indignation 
imaginable.  Plad  the  Pretender  ever  come  to  the  throne, 
I  could  have  expected  nothing  but  death,  and  all  the 
ignominy  and  reproach  that  the  most  inveterate  enemy  of 
his  person  and  claim  could  be  supposed  to  suffer." 

The  pamphlets  here  mentioned  were  issued  near  the 
close  of  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne.  Her  half  brother,  the 
son  of  the  abdicated  James  the  Second,  by  the  name  of 
James  the  Third,  was  then  the  Pretender  to  the  English 
throne.  Defoe  for  the  last  of  the  mentioned  articles  is 
said  to  have  been  again  arrested  in  1713.  The  first  of  these 
articles  was  issued  in  1712,  together  with  another  entitled 
"  Hannibal  at  the  Gates  ;  or,  The  Progress  of  Jacobitism 
with  the  Present  Danger  of  the  Pretender."  The  other 
article,  a  sharp  satire,  likewise  appeared  in  1713,  as  did  an- 
other article  mentioned  in  this  Appeal  entitled  "  What 
if  the  Queen  Should  Die?" 

The  articles  mentioned  in  the  Appeal  we  have  somewhat 
examined,  and  regard  them  as  Baconian  pieces,  though 
garbled.  The  one  last  mentioned  we  would  call  into  rela- 
tion with  two  short  fragments  in  Bacon's  attributed  writ- 
ings, entitled  "  The  First  Copy  of  My  Discourse  Touching 
the  Safety  of  the  Queen's  Person"  and  "The  Fragment 
of  a  Discourse  Touching  Intelligence  and  the  Safety  of 
the  Queen's  Person."  (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  214.)  These 
articles  bear  a  relation  to  the  already  quoted  sonnets  begin- 
ning at  p.  150,  touching  the  subject  of  a  successor  to  the 
English  throne.  The  article  entitled  "  What  if  the  Queen 
Should  D/ie  ?"  bears  earmarks  of  having  been  written  con- 
cerning the  days  of  Elizabeth,  we  think.  The  Queen  of 
Scots  was  at  that  time  the  Pretender.  The  article  entitled 
"  Hannibal  at  the  Gates"  we  have  not  seen.  This  may 
have  been  written  in  furtherance  of  Bacon's  later  design, 
already  alluded  to.     Portions  of  this  literature  was  truly 


HARLEY    AND    DEFOE.  421 

a  Foe  to  Papal  encroachments.  Some  parts  of  the  men- 
tioned Appeal,  though  not  much  of  that  quoted,  seem  as 
if  chopped  and  made  up  from  material  penned  by  Lord 
Bacon  during  his  troubles.  Tliese  manuscripts  were 
doubtless  at  times  so  chopped — that  is,  portions  of  dif- 
ferent manuscripts  and  different  portions  of  the  same  man- 
uscript interlaced.  In  closing  the  Revieiu,  in  1712,  with  a 
preface,  we  have  more,  we  think,  of  the  material  of  this 
Appeal  in  these  words  : 

"  First,  I  look  in,  and  upon  the  narrowest  Search  I  can 
make  of  my  thoughts,  desires,  and  designs,  I  find  a  clear 
untainted  Principle,  and  consequently,  an  entire  calm^  of 
Conscience,  founded  upon  the  satisfying  Sense,  that  I 
neither  am  touched  with  Bribes,"  etc. 

"  Next,  I  look  up,  and  without  examining  into  His 
"Ways,  the  Sovereignty  of  whose  Providence  I  adore,  I  sub- 
mit with  an  entire  Resignation  to  whatever  happens  to 
me,  as  being  by  the  immediate  direction  of  that  Goodness, 
and  for  such  wise  and  glorious  Ends  as,  however  I  may  not 
yet  see  through,  will  at  last  issue  in  good,  even  to  me  ; 
fully  depending,  that  1  shall  yet  be  delivered  from  the 
}>ower  of  Slander  and  Eeproaeh,  and  the  Sincerity  of  my 
Conduct  be  yet  cleared  up  to  the  World  :  and  if  not,  Te 
Deum  Laudamus.''^     (Lee,  vol,  i.,  p.  201.) 

To  the  singular  capitalization  of  words  here  used  we 
shall  later  have  occasion  to  refer.  To  those  familiar  with 
Bacon's  language  during  his  troubles  these  words  Avill 
seem  familiar.  Note  the  Baconian  expressions,  "  narrow- 
est search,"  "calm  of  conscience,"  "satisfying  sense," 
"  direction  of  that  goodness,"  etc.  Before  his  already 
mentioned  interview  with  the  King  he  was  known  to  have 
been  preparingvigorously  for  his  defence,  and  later  to  have 
struggled  to  clear  his  record.  By  erasing  slightly  here,  and 
adding  there,  a  manuscript  may,  with  little  trouble  and 
without  serious  alteration  of  style,  be  made  to  tell  a  tale 
other  than  as  originally  designed,  as  is  well  known  ;  and 
especially  if  there  be  chopping,  and  more  especially  if 
done  by  one  who  studies  that  style  with  a  view  to  such 
change. 

As  to  how  far  Harley  was  faithful  to  his  own,  and  how 
far  to  Bacon's  ends,  is  a  matter  to  be  considered  by  itself. 

'  Promus,  1435.     A  bonance.     (A  caulme.) 


422  HARLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

We  now  call  the  foregoing  expression,  Te  Deum  Lmida- 
vius,  into  direct  relation  with  the  same  expression  by 
Bacon  upon  the  opening  page  of  his  History  of  Henry  the 
Seventh,  and  which  was  the  first  product  of  his  pen  subse- 
quent to  his  fall.  He  says:  "The  King  immediately 
after  the  victory,  as  one  that  had  been  bred  under  a  devout 
mother,  and  was  in  his  nature  a  great  observer  of  religious 
forms,  caused  Te  deum  laudamus  to  be  solemnly  sung  in 
the  presence  of  the  whole  army  upon  the  placC;,  and  was 
himself  with  general  applause  and  great  cries  of  joy,  in  a 
kind  of  militar  election  or  recognition,  saluted  King."' 
(Bacon's  Literary  Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  27.) 

In  the  Serious  Reflections  of  Crusoe,  p.  48,  we  have  : 
"  When  I  came  there  it  was  my  fate  to  be  placed  between 
the  seats  where  the  man  of  God  performed  the  service  of 
his  praise,  and  sang  out  the  anthems  and  the  Te  Deum, 
which  celebrated  the  religious  triumjih  of  the  day." 

Having  premised  thus  much  concerning  the  man  Daniel 
Foe,  or  Defoe,  as  in  literature  he  has  come  to  be  called, 
we  next  introduce  him  to  the  reader  by  the  only  extant 
description  of  his  person,  and  which  is  in  the  words  of 
the  notice  issued  for  his  apprehension,  January  10th,  1703, 
in  consecpience  of  being  the  alleged  author  of  the  already 
mentioned  pamphlet  entitled  "  The  Shortest  Way  with 
the  Dissenters,"  and  which  is  in  these  words  : 

"  He  is  a  middle-sized  spare  man,  about  forty  years  old, 
of  a  brown  complexion  and  dark  brown  colored  hair,  but 
wears  a  wig  ;  a  hooked  nose,  a  sharp  chin,  gray  eyes,  and 
a  large  mole  near  his  mouth  :  was  born  in  London,  and  for 
many  years  was  a  hose-factor,  in  Freeman's  Yard  in  Corn- 
hill  ;  and  now  is  owner  of  the  brick  and  pantile  works, 
near  Tilbury  Fort,  in  Essex."     See  vol.  i.,  p.  67. 

Daniel  Foe  is  said  to  have  been  born  at  London,  in  the 
parish  of  St.  Giles,  Cripplegate,  in  1661,  but  upon  what 
particular  date  his  biographers  have  not  been  able  to  make 
certain,  nor  is  the  precise  location  of  his  place  of  birth 
more  certain  than  as  stated.     The  circumstances  of  his 

'  lu  Heury  V.,  Act  iv.,  sc.  8,  p.  570,  we  have  : 
"  King.  Do  we  all  holy  rites  : 
Let  there  be  sung  Non  nobis,  and  Te  Deum. 
The  dead  with  charity  ioclos'd  ia  clay, 
We'll  then  to  Calais  ;  and  to  England  then  ; 
Where  ne'er  from  France  arriv'd  more  happy  men." 


HARLEY   AND    DEFOE.  423 

death  are  likewise  involved  in  uncertainty,  as  indeed  are 
most  of  those  of  his  life,  except  so  far  as  they  are  inferen- 
tially  derived  from  the  writings  of  which  he  is  claimed  to 
be  the  author.  His  most  extensive  biographer,  Lee,  in 
his  work  entitled  "  Life  and  Newly  Discovered  Writings 
of  Daniel  Defoe,"  vol.  i.,  p.  4,  says  of  him  : 

"  So  far  as  celebrity  is  concerned,  he  may  be  considered 
the  first  and  last  of  his  family.  He  had  so  much  to  tell 
the  world  in  order  to  make  men  wiser  and  better,  that 
he  did  not  even  take  time  to  write  down  anything  as 
to  the  genealogy  of  his  excellent  mother  ;  whether  he  ever 
had  a  sister  or  brother  ;  or,  to  tell  us  whose  daughters 
himself  successively  married.  In  a  letter  to  Lord  Hali- 
fax, dated  1705,  he  speaks  of  a  brother,  without  mention- 
ing his  name  ;  but  as  such  brother  was  stated  to  be  in- 
capable of  carrying  a  message,  he  was,  perhaps,  only  a 
brother-in-law." 

While  our  investigation  must  necessarily  detract  from 
the  laurels  of  Defoe,  it  will  still  be  pursued  with  no  vin- 
dictive spirit,  and  he  shall  receive  at  our  hands  as  fair  a 
presentation  as  to  the  accredited  facts  of  his  history  as  he 
has  commonly  received  from  his  biographers  ;  and  it  will 
be  for  the  reader  to  say  what  degree  of  reliance  is  to  be 
placed  upon  them,  or  how  far  they  are  independent  of  the 
writings  themselves.  Such  opinion,  however,  must  of 
necessity  come  largely  by  independent  perusal  of  the  works 
themselves. 

His  name,  except  in  the  sense  that  it  was  assumed,  was 
not  his  own.  In  the  Chamberlain's  Book  it  is  entered  as 
Daniel  Foe.  When  about  forty  years  of  age,  in  other 
words,  from  the  time  of  his  mentioned  arrest,  he  is  found 
changing  his  name  from  Foe  into  Defoe,  though  Lee  later 
finds  him  subscribing  himself  as  D.  Foe,  D.  F.,  D.  D.  F., 
and  D.  Foe  in  alternation  v/ith  Daniel  Defoe,  and  which 
last  has  become  his  accepted  literary  name. 

Concerning  his  surname,  Lee,  vol.  i.,  p.  5,  says  :  "  He 
was  called  De  Foe  several  years  before  the  death  of  his 
venerable  father,  who  never  used  any  other  name  but  that 
of  Foe.  The  son  was  not  a  man  to  be  ashamed  of  the 
surname  of  his  living  parent  ;  nor  the  True-born  English- 
man likely  to  have  been  actuated  by  the  vanity  of  assuming 
a  Norman  prefix.  His  practice  disproves  the  assertion, 
and  shows  rather  that  the  form  of  his  sienaturo  was  a 


424  HARLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

matter  of  personal  indifference,  which  continued  to  the 
end  of  liis  life.  It  is  true  that  he  used  the  surname  of 
De  Foe,  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  it  began  accidentally, 
or  was  adopted  for  convenience,  about  the  year  1703,  to 
distinguish  him  from  his  father.  The  latter,  from  his  age 
and  experience,  and  the  former  from  his  commanding 
ability,  were  both  then  influential  members  of  the  Dis- 
senting interest  in  the  city.  They  would  respectively  be 
spoken  of  and  addressed,  orally,  as  Mr.  Foe  and  Mr.  D. 
Foe.  The  name  as  spoken,  would  in  writing  become  Mr. 
De  Foe,  and  thus  what  originated  in  accident,  might  be 
used  for  convenience,  and  become  more  or  less  fixed  and 
settled  by  time.  This  simple  explanation  is  favored  by 
the  following  proofs  of  Defoe's  indifference  in  the  matter. 
His  initials  and  name  appear  in  various  forms  in  his  works, 
subscribed  to  dedications,  prefaces,  etc.,  and  this  may  be 
presumed  to  have  been  done  by-  himself.  Before  1703 
I  lind  only  D.  F.  In  this  year  Mr.  De  Foe  and  Daniel 
De  Foe.  In  the  following  year  D.  D.  F. ;  De  Foe,  and 
Daniel  de  Foe.  In  1705  D.  F,  and  three  autograph  let- 
ters, all  addressed  within  a  few  months  to  the  Earl  of 
Halifax,  are  successively  siarned  D.  Foe,  De  Foe,  and 
Daniel  De  Foe.  In  1706'D.  F.  ;  D.  Foe  ;  De  Foe  ;  Daniel 
De  Foe.  In  1709  D.  F.;  De  Foe;  and  Daniel  Defoe. 
In  1710  a  letter  to  Dyer  is  signed  Do  Foe.  Two  autograph 
signatures  by  him,  in  1723  and  1727,  and  two  of  the  same 
dates  by  his  daughter  Hannah,  are  Daniel  De  Foe,  and 
Hannah  De  Foe.  Yet  in  1729  a  letter  to  his  printer  is 
signed  De  Foe  ;  and  one  to  his  son-in-law,  in  1730,  D.  F." 

Unless  there  be  method  in  this  madness,  what  kind  of 
business  is  this,  please,  for  talent  able  to  produce  the  body 
of  the  Defoe  literature  ?  But  tliis  is  not  the  only  instance 
of  like  methods  falling  within  the  scope  of  our  inquiry. 

Hudson,  as  to  Shakespeare,  vol.  xi.,  p.  171,  says  : 
"  Much  discussion  has  been  had  of  late  as  to  the  right 
way  of  spelling  the  Poet's  name.  The  few  autographs  of 
his  that  are  extant  do  not  enable  us  to  decide  precisely 
how  he  wrote  his  name,  or  rather  they  show  that  he  had 
no  one  constant  way  of  writing  it.  But  the  Venus  and 
Adonis  and  The  Rape  of  Lucrece  were  unquestionably 
published  by  his  authority  and  under  his  superintendence, 
and  in  the  dedication  of  both  these  poems  the  name  is 
printed  '  Shakespeare.'     The  same  is  the  case  in  all  the 


HARLEY    AND    DEFOE.  425 

quarto  issues  of  his  plays,  where  the  author's  name  is 
given,  with  the  single  exception  of  Love's  Labour's  Lost, 
which  has  it  '  Sliakespere  ;'  and  also  in  the  original  folio. 
And  in  much  the  greater  number  of  these  instances  the 
name  is  printed  with  a  hypen,  thus,  '  Shake-sjieare,'  '  as 
if  on  purpose  that  there  might  be  no  mistaking  it.  All 
which,  surely,  is,  or  ought  to  be,  decisive  as  to  how  the 
poet  willed  his  name  to  be  spelled  in  print.  And  so  we 
have  uniformly  printed  it  throughout  this  edition,  except 
where  we  made  a  point  to  quote  with  literal  exactness." 

But  why  these  flimsy  and  sophistic  attempts  to  do  for 
an  author  that  which  he  has  not  manifested  the  sliglitest 
concern  to  do  for  himself,  unless,  indeed,  these  be  subtle 
hints  whereby  to  arrest  attention  ?  Can  like  instances  be 
found  in  the  history  of  literature?  But  these  covers  to 
conceal  authorship  cannot  longer  be  thus  made  to  befog 
the  world,  nor  should  they.  The  foregoing  efforts  to  ex- 
plain but  furnish  forth  to  careful  thought  active  material 
for  discredit. 

Let  the  reader  himself  think  for  a  moment  of  thus 
writing  his  own  name  through  a  series  of  years,  or  of  thus 
bungling  a  hyphen  between  portions  of  his  name  for  clear- 
ness' sake,  and  he  is  in  a  true  mental  frame  for  digesting 
these  sophistic  explanations. 

As  the  substance  itself  of  the  Divine  Records  must  give 
them  credence,  so,  inquiry  initiated,  substance  must  and 
will  determine  the  true  authorship  of  these  writings. 

James  Foe,  the  father  of  Daniel,  is  said  to  have  resided 
at  London  and  to  have  been  engaged  in  business  as  a 
butcher.  Being  a  Dissenter,  he  sent  Daniel,  at  the  age  of 
fourteen,  to  an  academy  at  Stoke  Newington,  where  many 
of  the  Nonconformists  of  his  times  are  said  io  have  been 
educated.  We  next,  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  find  him 
settled  in  the  office  of  a  hose  factor.  How  much  learning 
he  possessed  at  this  time  is  not,  of  course,  known,  though 
it  is  said  he  was  in  later  years  much  taunted  for  want 
of  it. 

In  1683  fears  were  again  seriously  entertained  in  Eng- 
land touching  the  security  of  the  Keformed  faith,  and  so 

'  Tliis  is  in  full  accord  with  our  claim.  Bacon  in  these  writings 
shook  a  spear  at  tlie  ruling  foibles  of  men.  This  mark  was  but  Ihe 
laying  of  a  straw  to  ditfereutiate  tlie  woid,  and  as  we  have  done  in 
our  preface  to  this  work.     Promus,  108.     Best  to  la}'-  a  straw  here. 


426  IIARLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

an  insurrection  arose  in  which  Defoe  is  said  to  have  been 
interested,  and  which  favored  the  claims  to  the  crown  of 
the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  a  natural  son  of  Charles  the 
Second,  in  preference  to  those  of  his  brother,  James  the 
Second,  and  this  by  reason  of  James'  Catholic  and  Mon- 
mouth's Protestant  views.  When  Monmouth  landed,  in 
1685,  Defoe  is  said  to  have  joined  his  forces.  The  project 
failed,  and  he  escaped  unrecognized  to  London,  where,  in 
Freeman's  Court,  in  Cornhill,  he  set  up  in  business  as  a 
wholesale  hosier.  But  at  the  time  of  the  abdication,  in 
1688,  at  the  age  of  twentji-'Seven,  we  find  him  engaged  in 
the  business  of  a  liveryman  in  London.  Concerning  this 
and  his  already  mentioned  anonymous  article  put  forth  in 
1687,  Lee,  vol.  i.,  p.  31,  says  : 

"After  the  danger  Defoe  had  incurred  in  writing  and 
publishing  his  Tract  against  the  King's  Declaration,  he 
must  have  felt  chagrined  tliat  his  efforts  to  serve  the  Dis- 
senters had  only  given  great  offence  to  many  of  his  friends. 
He  appears,  upon  this,  to  have  turned  his  attention  more 
fully  to  his  commercial  duties  ;  and  thinking  it  expedient 
to  unite  himself  closely  with  his  fellow-citizens,  was  ad- 
mitted a  liveryman  of  the  City  of  London,  on  the  26th  of 
Jan.,  1688,  having  chiimed  his  freedom  by  birth.  In  the 
Cluimberlain's  Book  his  name  was  written  Daniel  Foe." 

In  the  Britannica  article  on  Difoe  it  is  said  :  "  His 
business  operations  at  this  period  appear  to  have  been 
extensive  and  various.  He  would  seem  both  now  and 
later  to  have  been  a  sort  of  commission  merchant,  especially 
in  Spanish  and  Portuguese  goods,  and  at  some  time  or  other 
he  visited  Spain  on  business.  Later  we  hear  him  spoken 
of  as  '  a  civet-cat  merchant,'  but  as  he  can  hardly  have 
kept  a  menagerie  of  these  animals,  it  is  odd  that  no  one 
has  supposed  that  the  civet-cat  was  the  sign  of  his  place  of 
business  (it  was  a  very  usual  one)  rather  than  the  staple 
of  his  trade." 

Yet  see  in  the  following  quotations  what  Lee  says  of  his 
attainments. 

In  vol.  i.,  p.  10,  he  says  :  "  As  to  the  scholastic  attain- 
ments of  Defoe  we  are  not  left  in  ignorance.  He  was  able 
to  read  the  Greek  classics,  and  had  not  only  mastered  the 
most  difficult  Latin  authors,  but  himself  produced  Latin 
compositions  for  the  press  ;  he  translated  and  spoke  Span- 
ish, Italian,  and  French,  the  latter  fluently,  and  had  some 


HARLEY    AND    DEFOE.  42? 

knowledge  of  Dutch.  Probably  no  man  ever  better  nndcr- 
stood  how  to  use  a  plain,  racy,  thorough  English  st}'le  of 
language.  His  writings  evince  his  great  logical  proficiency. 
Under  the  direction  of  his  tutors,  he  went  through  a  com- 
plete course  of  theology,  in  which  he  acquired  a  proficiency 
that  enabled  him  to  cope  with  the  most  acute  writers  of 
that  disputatious  age.  He  had  sufficient  knowledge  of 
mathematics  for  tlie  acquirement  of  astronomy  ;  and  as  to 
geography  he  appears  to  have  been  acquainted  with  every 
known  spot  of  the  earth,  its  physical  character,  natural 
and  artificial  productions,  and  the  whole  trade  and  com- 
merce of  the  world.  History,  ancient  and  modern,  eccle- 
siastical and  civil,  appears  to  have  been  at  his  fingers' 
ends.  No  man  of  his  time  better  understood  the  consti- 
tution of  his  country,  and  he  was  very  far  in  advance  of 
his  age  in  many  branches  of  political  and  social  science. 
So  wide  a  range  of  learning  has  probably  been  attained  by 
few,  under  the  disadvantages  he  has  himself  pointed  out  ; 
but  it  must  be  remembered  that  Defoe  was  no  ordinary 
student." 

On  p.  22  of  his  introduction  Lee  says  :  "I  am  bound  to 
go  further,  and  state,  that  from  first  to  last  Defoe  was  a 
sincere,  consistent  upholder  of  the  Church  of  England,  its 
Establishment  and  its  Doctrines  though  a  Dissenter  from 
its  form  of  worship.  Declarations  of  his  moderate  prin- 
ciples in  this  respect  are  neither  few,  nor  far  between  ; 
they  extend  over  the  whole  of  his  literary  life.  One  of 
his  favorite  positions,  for  Avhich  he  was  always  ready  to 
contend,  was,  '  The  Church  of  England,  as  by  law  estab- 
lished, is  the  Great  Bulwark  of  the  Protestant  faith  ;'  and 
to  the  question.  What  is  your  religion  ?  his  answer  is 
*  A  catholic  Christian.'  If  the  numerous  passages  in  sup- 
port of  the  Church  of  England  were  unjustly  isolated  from 
his  general  works,  the  world  might  conclude  that  he  was 
a  Churchman,  and  no  Dissenter.'  , 

Mr.  Wilson  has  quoted  extensively  from  Defoe's  works, 
but  the  large-hearted  Catholicity  of  his  religious  character 
and  principles  is  not  made  apparent ;  and  I  regret  to  add 
that  the  systematic  suppression  of  Defoe's  real  opinions  on 
such  topics,  is  even  more  to  be  regretted  tiian  the  active 
efforts  to  make  him  appear  a  Sectarian  bigot." 

'Please  sec  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  pp.  295-99  pn  the  Church  of 
England. 


428  HAKLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

On  p.  438  he  says  :  "  His  mind  seems  to  grasp,  and 
apply  to  his  purpose,  all  parts  of  the  globe,  and  especially 
those  least  generally  known  in  his  time.  In  suggesting 
new  openings  for  the  manufacturers  of  his  own  country, 
he  speaks  with  the  authority  of  an  intimate  personal  ac- 
quaintance, as  to  the  geography  of  remote  nations  ;  the 
peo2>le,  their  condition,  the  productions  they  could  supply 
us  with,  and  the  nature  of  the  exports  that  would  supply 
the  wants  and  promote  the  happiness  of  each  other  ;  and 
at  the  same  time  add  to  the  industry,  the  wealth,  and  the 
influence  of  England.'  The  English  Merchant  was  a  char- 
acter upon  whom  Defoe  delighted  to  dwell' — he  gloried  in 
the  national  wealth,  and  in  those  whose  enterprise  brought 
that  wealth,  in  converging  streams  from  distant  lauds.  He 
rose  in  dignity  when  the  names  of  successful  merchants 
were  enrolled  among  the  ancient  nobility  ;  and  he  shared 
the  pride  of  a  people  whose  trade  placed  them  in  a  con- 
dition superior  to  that  of  all  other  nations." 

Note  that  in  1623  Bacon  said  that  if  he  should  there- 
after write  upon  political  issues  the  work  would  probably 
be  posthumous  or  abortive. 

On  p.  214,  as  to  trade,  Lee  says  :  "  Our  author  was 
nearly  a  century  and  a  half  in  advance  of  general  public 
opinion  on  these  topics.  He  believed  that  international 
reduction  and  abolition  of  duties,  would  increase  trade, 
cheapen  commodities,  promote  national  and  individual 
prosperity,  and  become  the  most  powerful  guarantee  of  a 

'  At  the  end  of  Book  1  of  the  De  Augmentis  Bacon  says  :  "If, 
therefore,  the  invention  of  a  ship  was  thouglit  so  noble,  which  carries 
commodities  from  place  to  place  and  consociateth  the  remotest  regions 
in  participation  of  their  fruits,  how  much  more  are  letters  to  be 
valued,  which,  like  ships,  pass  through  the  vast  ocean  of  time,  and 
convcj'  knowledge  and  inventions  to  the  remotest  ages." 

'  In  his  essay  entitled  "  Of  Empire."  Bacon,  as  to  the  merchants  of 
a  prince,  says  :  "  For  their  merchants  ;  they  are  vena  jwrte  ;  and  if 
they  flourish  not,  a  kingdom  may  hav^e  good  limbs,  but  will  have 
empty  veins,  and  flourish  little."  And  he  opens  a  speech  in  1601  in 
these  words  :  "  I  am,  Mr.  Speaker,  to  tender  to  this  House  the  fruit 
of  the  Committee's  labor,  which  tends  to  the  comfort  of  the  stomach 
of  this  realm  ;  I  mean  the  merchant  ;  which  if  it  quail  or  fall  into  a 
consumption,  the  State  cannot  choose  but  shortly  be  sick  of  that 
disease."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p.  34.)  And  in  vol.  iii.  he  says 
they  are  "  Neptune's  almsmen,  and  fortune's  adventurers."  Did  it 
not  too  much  cumber  our  work  we  would  call  Bacon  into  direct 
relation  upon  all  of  these  points.  His  views  upon  colonization  we 
have  already  called  under  review. 


HARLEY    AND    DEFOE.  429 

lasting  pence.  To  use  the  modem  phrase,  Defoe  was  the 
first  and  foremost  advocate  of  '  Free  Trade.'  " 

Oil  p.  314  he  says  :  "  Headers  of  Defoe's  imaginary 
voyages  and  travels  have  wondered  how  he  obtained  his 
great  knowledge  of  geography  ;  and  no  less,  how  he  be- 
came so  intimately  acquainted  with  the  peculiarities  and 
habits  of  sailors,  and  all  the  technicalities  of  a  sea-faring 
life.  When  personating  a  sailor,  and  describing  the  work- 
ing of  a  ship,  in  any  part  of  the  world,  he  appears  as 
much  in  his  proper  element,  as  when  discoursing  on  in- 
ternal trade,  or  discussing  the  home  politics  of  the  day. 
No  material  inaccuracy,  in  these  respects,  has  ever  l^een 
detected  in  his  writings.  He  confessed  to  having  all  the 
world  at  his  fingers'  ends,  but  how  he  became  so  learned 
is  left  to  conjecture.".' 

On  p.  415  lie  says  :  ''  Although  Defoe  had  contributed 
so  much  to  the  literature  of  his  country,  and  would,  as  a 
biblical  student,  feel  interested  in  any  inquiry  into  the 
early  history  of  letters,  we  should  scarcely  have  expected 
him  to  take  the  subject  into  his  own  hands.  As  if  to 
show,  however,  that  tiie  whole  range  of  human  knowledge 
was  within  his  grasp,  he  did  so,  in  a  work  to  which  he  had 
ah-eady  alluded,  in  the  last  noticed  pamphlet.  The  title 
is,  '  An  Essay  upon  Literature  ;  or,  an  Enquiry  into  the 
Antiquity  and  Original  of  Letters  ;  Proving,  That  the  two 
Tables,  written  by  the  Finger  of  God  in  Mount  Sinai,  was 
the  first  AVriting 'in  the  World  ;  and  that  all  other  Alpha- 
bets derive  from  the  Hebrew.'^     With  a  Short  View  of  the 

'  Again  we  would  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  there  is  a  kind  of 
nautical  basis  to  all  of  Bacon's  attributed  writings. 

'^  See  tliis  view,  taken  in  ch.  1  of  Book  6  of  the  De  Augmpntis,  and 
-whicli  concerns  the  "  Handing  on  of  the  Lamp,  or  Method  of  Delivery 
to  Posterity,"  and  where  Plato's  views  upon  the  subject  are  called  in 
question.  Note  also  what  is  said  toucliing  a  philosophic  grammar, 
and  which  is  set  down  as  wanting.  Bacon  here  also  sa3^s  :  "  And  is  it 
not  a  fact  worthy  of  observation  (thougli  it  may  be  a  little  sliock  to 
the  spirits  ©f  us  moderns)  that  the  ancient  languages  were  fidl  of 
declensions,  cases,  conjugations,  tenses,  and  tlie  like,  while  the 
modern  are  nearly  stripped  of  them,  and  perform  most  of  tlieir  work 
lazily  by  prepositions  and  verbs  auxiliary  ?  Surely  a  man  may 
easily  conjecture  (how  well  soever  we  think  of  ourselves)  tliat  tlie 
wits  of  the  early  ages  were  much  acuter  and  subtler  than  our  own. 
Tliere  are  numberless  observations  of  this  kind,  enough  to  till  a  good 
volume. "  And  see  our  quotation  at  p.  73.  As  to  Hebrew  idioms,  see 
Addison,  vol.  iii.,  pp.  383-85.  Promus,  516.  Tragedies  and  com- 
edies are  made  of  one  alphabet. 


430  HARLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

Methods  made  use  of  by  the  Ancients,  to  supply  the  want 
of  Letters  before,  and  improve  the  use  of  them,  after  they 
were  known.'  The  subject  was  one  little  known  to  the 
general  public,  and  a  great  curiosity  to  the  learned.  It 
involved  important  consequences  ;  and,  as  there  then  ex- 
isted few  books  on  the  subject,  and  scarcely  any  in  the 
English  language,  much  research  and  deep  thought  were 
required.  Our  author  succeeded  in  producing  a  work, 
original  in  its  plan, — excellent  in  its  keeping  the  leading 
idea,  through  the  successive  parts,  before  the  minds  of  his 
readers  ;  and  containing  much  instruction  within  a  narrow 
compass.  The  book  exhibits  the  learning  of  our  author 
in  the  dead  languages,  yet  his  peculiar  talent  has  made  it 
as  entertaining  as  it  is  instructive.  Succeeding  writers 
have  more  amply  discussed  the  subject,  but  this  little  vol- 
ume is  well  worthy  of  being  reprinted.  It  is  now  among 
the  rarest  of  his  works." 

And  yet  we  are  asked  to  believe  these  to  be  the  attainments 
of  one  immersed  in  civil  affairs,  as  a  hose-factor,  a  livery- 
man, a  civet-cat  merchant,  and  other  employments,  as  we 
shall  see. 

Lee  in  the  introduction  to  vol.  ii.  of  his  work,  p.  7,  as  to 
certain  langiuige  characteristics  of  Defoe,  says  :  "  These 
Essays  cannot  be  read  without  observation  of  the  Author's 
large  acquaintance  with  Holy  Scripture.  His  general 
style,  but  especially  his  grave  colloquuil  compositions,  owe 
much  of  their  charm  to  this.  I  have  to  notice,  however, 
that  modern  refinement  has  consigned  to  the  class  of  the 
indelicate  certain  words  in  common  use  when  the  Bible 
was  translated  ;  and  which  still  continued  to  be  used, 
without  exciting  coarse  or  impure  fdeas,  when  Defoe  wrote. 
If  such  -words  be  occasionally  found  in  this  collection,  let 
me  deprecate  any  offence,  for  the  reason  I  have  stated  ; 
also  from  a  consideration  of  the  purity  of  the  Author's 
life  and  character,  the  sincerity  of  his  good  intentions, 
and  the  true  morality  inculcated." 

On  p.  338,  vol.  i.,  he  says  :  "  I  have  now  to  explain 
briefly  an  important  point,  that  has  hitherto  perplexed 
not  only  all  biographers  of  Defoe,  but  also  many  of  his 
readers  ;  namely,  the  motives  and  circumstances  that 
induced  him,  at  sixty  years  of  age,  to  commence  writing  a 
series  of  volumes  professedly  recording  the  lives  of  notori- 
ous criminals,  whose  manv  offences  and  immoralities  had 


HAllLEY   AND    DEFOE.  431 

subjected  them  to  tlie  penalties  of  the  laws  they  had 
broken.  His  personal  honesty  and  integrity,  the  purity 
of  his  life,  nay  even  his  high  religious  character,  has  never 
been  called  in  question  by  any  well-informed  writer,  and 
is  attested  by  the  excellence  of  his  numerous  moral  works  ; 
— composed,"  not  only  previously,  but  interposed  between, 
and  continued  after,  the  publication  of  those  which  are 
felt  to  be  offensive  to  modern  notions  of  delicacy.  It  has 
also  excited  inquiry  how  he  became  acquainted  with  the 
cUiss  of  persons  from  whom  alone  he  could  have  obtained 
such  an  intimate  knowledge  of  their  habits,  manners,  and 
associations  ;  not  only  at  home,— but  in  the  Plantations 
to  which  they  were  transported, — as  was  requisite  for  the 
production  of  these  works.  As  to  the  latter  of  these  in- 
quiries, the  only  answer  has  been  based  on  the  horrible 
manner  in  which  prisoners  were  confined  together  in  New- 
gate, almost  without  discrimination  of  offence,  or  sex." 

The  providing  for  this  class  of  persons  lay  at  the  very 
basis  of  Bacon's  "  Solomon's  House,"  as  will  appear  in  his 
already  quoted  speech  at  p.  18,  touching  Drowned  Mineral 
AVorks.  And  again  are  we  reminded  of  our  Head-light, 
"  For  I  have  taken  all  knowledge  to  be  my  providence." 
But  on  p.  24  Lee  says  :  "  To  return  to  Defoe's  business 
operations.  There  is  no  possibility  of  fixing  accurate 
dates  to  the  incidental  notices  collected  through  the  works 
of  an  author  who  avoids  as  much  as  possible  obtruding  his 
private  affairs  upon  the  public.  It  may,  however,  serve 
as  a  guide  that  the  pecuniary  difficulties  which  ended  in 
his  becoming  insolvent  began  about  the  year  1692." 

Defoe's  failure  in  1692  appears  to  be  the  next  that  is 
definitely  known  of  him  following  the  year  1688.  He  is  now 
reported  to  have  failed  for  £17,000,  but  what  his  particular 
business  was  at  the  time  does  not  definitely  appear.  He 
is  said  to  have  absconded  until  a  compromise  was  effected 
with  his  creditors.  From  1694  to  1699  he  is  said  to  have 
been  by  King  William's  appointment  an  accountant  of  the 
glass  tax.  It  is  also  said  that  in  1694  he  became  secretary 
and  ultimately  the  owner  of  the  brick  and  pantile  works  at 
Tilbury,  referred  to  in  the  mentioned  notice  issued  for  his 
arrest  in  1703.  The  works  at  Tilbury  are  said  tohave 
prospered  until  that  event,  but  soon  after  Defoe  is  re- 
ported to  have  again  failed  for  £3000.  These  failures 
served  later  as  the  occasion  for  various  articles  concerning 


433  HAKLEY   AND    DEFOE. 

the  laws  of  bankruptcy  and  insolvent  debtors.  Bacon's 
struggles  with  his  creditors,,  both  early  and  late  in  life, 
have  in  a  measure  been  touched  upon. 

At  the  time  of  Defoe's  arrest,  in  1703,  there  had  ap- 
peared a  large  amount  of  this  masterly  literary  work, 
though  fatiiered  upon  no  one.  In  other  words,  it  was 
put  forth  anonymously.  In  1G91  appeared  the  pamphlet 
entitled  "  A  New  Discovery  of  an  Old  Intrigue  ;"  in 
1694,  "  The  Englishman's  Choice  and  True  Interest  ;"  in 
1697,  "  Some  Ketiections  on  a  Pamphlet  Lately  Published 
Entitled  an  Argument  Showing  that  a  Standing  Army  is 
Inconsistent  with  a  Free  (irovernment  and  Absolutely  De- 
structive to  the  Constitution  of  the  English  Monarchy  ;" 
in  1698,  "  An  Inquiry  into  Occasional  Conformity,"  "  An 
Argument  Showing  that  a  Standing  Army  with  Consent 
of  Parliament  is  not  Inconsistent  with  a  Eree  Govern- 
ment," and  a  treatise,  consisting  of  350  pages,  entitled 
*'  An  Essay  on  Projects  ;'' '  two  days  later  appeared  an 
Essay  on  the  Eeformation  of  Manners,  under  the  title 
"  The  Poor  Man's  Plea  in  Eelation  to  All  the  Proceedings, 
Declarations,  Acts  of  Parliament,  etc.,  which  Have  Been 
or  Shall  Be  Made  and  Published  for  a  Reformation  of 
Manners,  and  Suppressing  Immorality  in  the  Nation  ;"  ' 
in  1700,  "The  Two  Great  Questions  Considered— 1.  What 
the  French  King  will  Do  with  Respect  to  the  Spanish 
Monarchy  ?  2.  What  Measures  the  English  Ought  to 
Take?"  and  a  poem  entitled  "The  Pacificator,"  and 
from  which,  p.  12,  we  quote  thus  : 

"  Wit  like  a  hasty  Flood,  may  over-run  us, 
And  too  much  sense  has  oftentimes  undone  us. 
Wit  is  a  flux,  a  Looseness  of  the  Brain, 
And  sense-abstract  has  too  much  Pride  to  reigu. 

"  Wit  is  a  King  without  a  Parliament, 
And  Sense  a  Democratic  Government. 
Wit  without  Sense  is  the  Laughing-evil, 
And  Sense  unmixed  with  Fancy  is  the  Devil." 

In  1701  appeared  the  satire  in  verse  known  as  "  The 

'  We  have  already  called  attention  to  the  subject  of  projects  while 
the  English  Treasury  was  in  conunission  during  the  reigu  of  James 
the  First.  Let  it  be  investigated  as  to  whelher  this  work  may  have 
grown  out  of  Bacon's  relations  to  that  commission. 

'^  See  Bacon's  expressed  fears  upon  the  subject  in  our  quotation 
from  him  at  p.  180. 


HARLEY   AND    DEi'OE.  433 

True-Born  Englishman,"  and  aimed,  it  is  said,  at  those 
t^^'p?;  r  '  Ej."g  V^\Hiam  as  a  foreigner.  And  Jam  s 
W?     Ti  1"^^'"^  ^''.^  foreigner,  let  it  be  remem- 

beied.  ihere  also  appeared  this  year  "  The  Six  Distin- 
guishmg  Characters  of  a  Parliament  Man  ;"  "  Consider- 
ations upon  Corrupt  Elections  of  Membei's  to  Ser;e  in 
Par  lament;"  -The  Freeholder's  Plea  Against  Stock 
Jobbing  Elections  of  Parliament  Men;"  -The  Succes- 
sion to  the  Crown  of  England  Considei'ed  ;"  -Leo  ion's 
Memoria  to  the  House  of  Commons  ;"  -  The  Villainy  of 

utfit^T  ^'''Tn  "1^^  '^''  ^'«"«^«  «^'  tl^^  Late  Run 
S\„*??.  .^f^^x,^"^  ^«"kers  Discovered  and  Consid- 
S  '  .  o.  .  ®  A'*'^''^  ^^  *'^p  Kentish  Petition  ;"  "The 
1  wi  .^/r'^^^^  Jacobitism  Considered  in  Two  Queries  • 
1.  VVhat  Measures  the  French  King  will  Take  with  Re'. 
'^f  '?  the  Person  and  Title  of  the  Pretended  P  nee  of 
Wales?  2.  What  the  Jacobites  in  England  Ouoht  to  Do 
on  the  Same  Account?"  -Reasons  a|ainst  a  War  wUh 
France;  or.  An  Argument  Showing  that  the  French 
King's  Owning  the  Prince  of  Wales  as  King  of  England 
Scotland,  and  Ireland  is  no  Sufficient  Ground  for  a  War  '' 
Note  that  Charles  the  First  was  Prince  of  Wales  at  his 

Fr::TnX^,%?'''''''''  •^^••^^^^^  Henrietta  Ma?ia  0 
i^iance  in  1625.  This  marriage  had  been  fixed  upon  not 
long  after  the  breaking  off  of  the  match  with  the  Infonta 
of  Spain,  already  considered  in  earlier  pages.  The  terms 
of  It  were  very  distasteful  to  England  See  ch  18^f 
Knight's  History  of  England,  vof  iii  '  Tl  s  year  xlso 
appeared  the  pamphlets  entitled  -  The  Dange/s  of  tl  e 
Protes  ant  Rel.gion  Considered  from  the  Present  Pros- 
pect of  a  Rohg.ous  War  in  Europe"  and  ''tirOriSnal 
Power  of  the  Collective  Body  of  the  People  of  EigS 
Examined  and  Asserted."  This  last  is  indeed  a  most 
masterly  piece  of  work.  In  1702  appeare  the  t^ree 
poems  entitled  -Reformation  of  ManS  a  Satire  V J 
Vobis  Hypocrite  ;"  -  Good  Advice  to  the  Ladies   Show 

W?yt   T^/em  l^tf /^"'t?'^'  '^  H'^'^  '^  Go   the  B^t 
way  Tor  Ihem  Is  to  Keep  Unmarried,"  and  -  The  Snan- 

ish  Descent,  by  the  Author  of  the  True-Born  Engfish- 
'  Concerning  the  origin  of  this  title    "  Ti-no  Jir^^r.  -c^     i-  i 

'  Let  tins  be  viewed  in  connection  with  the  Soutli  Sea  scheme. 


434  HAllLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

man."  As  the  mentioiied  article  in  1701,  entitled  "  The 
True-Born  Englishman,"  became  popular,  some  later  arti- 
cles were  thus  subscribed.  Indeed  tlie  first  published 
edition  of  these  writings  was  so  issued.  No  name  as 
author  was  appended  to  them  until  later,  as  we  shall 
see  further  on.  This  year  also  appeared  "  Legion's 
New  Paper  ;"  "  The  Mock  Mourners  ;"  "  A  New  Test  of 
the  Church  of  England's  Loyalty  ;  or,  Whigish  Loyalty 
and  Church  Loyalty  Considered."  The  article  entitled 
"An  Inquiry  into  Occasional  Conforrhity,  Showing  that 
the  Dissenters  Are  in  no  Way  Concerned  in  It,"  also  ap- 
peared in  1702.  And  still  the  authorship  of  these  writings 
remained  undisclosed. 

Anne  came  to  the  throne  in  March  of  this  year,  and  the 
controversy  as  to  occasional  conformity  was  at  once  revived, 
and  in  November  a  bill  for  its  prevention  was  introduced 
into  Parliament,  but  between  conference  and  amendment  it 
was  finally  lost.  While  this  bill  was  pending  the  mentioned 
pamphlet  appeared.  Ilarley  was  at  this  time  Speaker  of 
the  House. 

Later,  and  in  December  the  article  entitled  "  The 
Shortest  Way  with  the  Dissenters  ;  or.  Proposals  for  the 
Establishment  of  the  Church  of  England,"  came  forth, 
and  for  which  Defoe  was  soon  after  procured  to  be  arrested 
by  the  High  Church  party,  which  soon  became  furious 
for  a  victim.  As  to  Bacon's  purpose  in  this  please  see 
pp.  198  to  200.  By  reason  of  our  unbounded  claims,  we 
must  ask  of  the  reader  that  he  suspends  still  his  judgment, 
for  the  end  is  not  yet. 

Concerning  this  pamphlet  Lee,  vol.  i.,  p.  66,  says  : 
"  To  understand  the  inimitable  irony  of  this  production, 
it  must  be  read.  No  mere  quotation  or  abstract  can  con- 
vey an  adequate  impression  of  its  completeness.  The  art- 
fulness witJi  which  the  writer  gravely  concealed  his  art, 
under  an  apparent  simplicity  of  purpose  ;  the  mental 
transformation,  by  which  he  was  able  to  see  through  the 
eyes  and  read  the  thoughts  of  those  violent  men  ;  and  then, 
so  perfectly  to  express  all  their  wishes,  exactly  in  their 
own  style,  within  less  than  thirty  small  pages,  are  proofs 
of  the  greatness  of  that  genius  which  was  destined  to  caj)- 
tivate  all  readers." 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  some  of  the  liverymen  of  our 
day  should  not  possess  such  rare  gifts  in  theology. 


nARLP:Y   AND    DEFOE.  435 

In  the  A.  D.  B.  Mask  may  be  found  this  same  inde- 
scribable art  in  whipping  Buckingham's  profligacy  and 
dangerous  political  courses.  Proclamation  for  Defoe's 
arrest  was,  as  stated,  issued  January  ]Oth,  ]703.  In  the 
mean  time  he  is  said  to  have  concealed  himself.  On 
February  24th  he  was  indicted  and  his  trial  was  ordered 
to  take  place  in  July.  On  February  25th  the  pamphlet 
was  brought  to  the  notice  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and 
was  ordered  to  be  burned  the  next  day  in  New  Palace 
Yard  by  the  common  hangman.  As  the  printer  and 
bookseller  had  both  been  taken  into  custody,  Defoe,  now 
in  order  to  relieve  them,  is  said  to  have  surrendered  him- 
self. Just  before  his  surrender  there  appeared  an  explan- 
atory pamphlet,  entitled  "  A  Brief  Explanation  of  a  Late 
Pamphlet  entitled  The  Shortest  Way  with  the  Dissenters." 
On  March  24th,  and  while  thus  in  confinement  awaiting 
his  trial,  another  pamphlet  appeared,  entitled  "  King  Will- 
iam's Affection  to  the  Church  of  England  Examined." 
Previous  to  the  legal  exanjination  of  his  case,  for  he  had 
no  trial,  there  was  prepared  for  publication  the  first  vol- 
ume of  his  Works,  under  the  title,  "  A  True  Collection 
of  the  Writings  of  the  Author  of  The  True  Born  English- 
man Corrected  by  Himself."  Does  the  reader  think  that 
in  this  title — and  subsequent  volumes  were  in  the  same 
form— he  sees  displayed  the  mind  that  produced  the  body 
of  this  literature  ?  In  other  words,  is  it  not  evident  that 
this  title  was  but  a  cover?  This  volume  contains  twenty- 
two  pieces,  including  "  The  Shortest  Way  with  the  Dis- 
senters," the  article  for  which  Defoe  was  arrested.  A 
second  volume  containing  eighteen  pieces  appeared  in 
1705,  and  a  third  volume  in  1710,  and  it  is  said  with  a 
key.     And  Avhy  a  key  ? 

in  none  of  the  various  editions  of  Defoe's  life,  including 
the  Britannka  article,  do  we  find  the  day  of  his  arraign- 
ment stated  further  than  as  set  forth  by  Lee  in  a  foot- 
note to  his  work,  vol.  i.,  p.  70,  and  where  his  name  is 
spelled  Deffoe,  while  in  the  Chamberlain's  Book  it  is 
stated  as  Daniel  Foe.  In  the  notice  for  his  apprehension 
it  is  stated  De  Foe  alias  De  Fooe.  Before  his  apprehen- 
sion Lee  says  he  does  not  find  him  to  have  signed  his 
name  other  than  D.  Foe.  Without  attempting  any  special 
point  here  we  still  give  the  reader  what  we  find.  The 
mentioned  footnote  is  in  these  words:  "In  the  Brititih 


436  HARLKY    AND    DEFOE. 

Museum,  {K.  P.  110,  f.  27,)  is  a  copy  of  '  The  Shortest  Way 
with  the  Dissenters,'  with  some  MS.  notes  in  a  contem- 
porary hand.  Behind  the  title-page  is  the  following  : — 
'  Nota. — At  the  Sessions  in  the  Old  Baily  7,  8,  and  9  July, 
1703  Danicll  Deffoe  a  supposed  Dissenter,  sometime  a 
Hosier  in  Cornhill,  pleaded  guilty  to  an  indictment  for 
writing  and  publishing  of  this  seditious  libell  and  had 
Judgment  to  stand  thrice  in  the  Pillory  with  a  Paper  of 
his  crime  ;  executed  accordingly  and  to  find  securities  of 
his  good  behavior  for  7  years  and  to  pay  cc  Marks  and  to 
lie  in  Prison  till  all  be  performed.'  At  the  end  of  the 
copy  is  the  following,  in  the  same  hand  : — '  Nota. — The 
Author  hereof  Pilloried  for  the  same  is  quite  a  Good 
Champion  for  the  Moderate  Church  of  England,  by  a 
Keview  in  opposition  to  Jacobite  and  Non-Juror  and  the 
High  Churchman  of  Passive  Obedience.'  " 

In  vol.  i.,  p.  362,  Lee  mentions  a  mortgage  as  having 
been  given  by  Defoe  and  his  daughter  llannali  in  1723,  in 
the  body  of  which  their  names  are  both  spelled  Deffoe, 
and  it  recites  therein  certain  indentures  as  having  been 
given  to  them  in  which  their  names  are  thus  s])elled. 
The  instrument  is  signed  Daniel  De  Foe,  Hannah  Defoe. 
On  p.  407  Lee  mentions  an  advertisement  by  Defoe  in 
1726,  in  the  Daily  Post,  a  paper  in  which  Defoe  is  said  to 
have  been  interested,  in  which  his  name  is  spelled  Deifoe, 
while,  on  p.  471,  as  to  Defoe's  widow,  he  says  :  "  The 
register  of  the  Bunhill  Fields  burial  grounds  contains  the 
following  entry  :  1732  DeC"  19.  Mrs.  Defow,  Stoke  Nevv- 
ington."  It  will  be  observed,  however,  that  no  first 
name  is  given,  nor  is  it  stated  that  she  was  the  widow  of 
Daniel  Defoe. 

The  mentioned  arrest  served  now  as  the  occasion  for 
putting  forth  mournful  portions  of  this  literature,  and  we 
might  think  this  arrest  connived  at  with  Defoe,  but  he 
probably  neither  knew  Ilarley  nor  had  aught  to  do  with 
these  writings  prior  to  this  time.  It  may  possibly  have 
been  part  of  the  original  scheme,  however.  Many  of  the 
articles  were  so  written  as  to  serve  but  as  the  occasion  for 
the  bringing  forth  of  others. 

On  July  16th  he  is  said  to  have  put  forth  a  satire  in 
verse  upon  himself,  entitled  "  More  Reformation."  This 
work  he  had  mentioned  as  forthcoming  in  the  preface  to 
the  already  mentioned  first  volume  of  his  works,  and  it 


HARLEY    AND    DEFOE.  437 

would,  it  was  said,  concern  his  own  errors  and  those  of 
others,  "  to  settle  matters  between  vice  and  repentance  a 
little,  and  that  they  may  have  no  excuse  to  reject  the  ad- 
monition because  the  reprover  was  not  an  angel."  That 
portion  of  it  quoted  by  Lee,  vol.  i.,  p.  70,  as  referring  to 
Defoe,  we  quote  as  referring  to  Bacon's  troubles  in  1621  as 
follows  : 

"  And  wouldst  thou  now  describe  a  Modern  lool. 
To  Wit,  to  Parties,  and  himself  a  Fool, 
Embroil'd  with  State  to  do  his  friends  no  {rood, 
And  by  his  Friends  themselves  misunderstood  ? 
Misconstru'd  tirst  in  every  word  he  said, 
By  these  unpitied,  and  by  those  unpaid  : 
All  Men  would  say  the  Picture  was  thy  own. 
No  Gazette  Marks  were  half  so  quickly  known. 

"  Unhappy  Satyre,  now  Eeview  thy  Fate, 
And  see  the  Threatening  Anger  of  the  State  ! 
But  learn  thy  sinking  Fortunes  to  despise,  ^ 
And  all  thy  Coicard  Friends,— X\xvw' A  Enemies." 

Defoe  remained  in  Newgate  until  early  in  August,  1704, 
when,  through  the  influence  of  Harrley,  he  was  relieved, 
as  stated  in  the  mentioned  "  Appeal  to  Honor  and  Justice." 
Though  in  Newgate  the  literary  stream  did  not  cease,  as 
we  have  seen.  While  here  it  was  that  the  work  entitled 
"  The  Storm,"  brought  under  review  in  our  introduction 
to  this  work,  p.  40,  was  put  forth.  While  here  his  celebrated 
journal  known  as  The  Revieiu  was  begun,  February  19th, 
1704,  and  was  continued  until  July  29th,  1712,  and  finally 
by  later  numbers  to  June  11th,  1713,  the  last  number 
ending  with  exit  Rcvieiv.  To  the  time  of  Defoe's  im- 
prisonment, in  1703,  the  first  daily  newspaper,  the  first 
magazine,  and  the  first  English  novel  had  not  as  yet  made 
its  appearance. 

And  so  may  we  here  again  properly  introduce  our  Head- 
light, "  For  I  have  taken  all  knowledge  to  be  my  provi- 
dence." Under  our  claim  Bacon  not  only  reformed  the 
English  stage,  but,  as  strangely  as  it  may  appear,  was  our 
first  journalist  in  the  political  articles  of  the  Revieio,  and 
our  first  novelist  in  Crusoe,  though  this  did  not  appear 
until  some  later  nor  until  1719. 

Were  it  not  that  interpolations  introduced  into  many 
of  these  writings  go  further  than  to  conform  them,  we 
should  be  inclined  to  the  belief  that  Harley,  instead  of> 


438  HARLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

seeking  his  own  ends  in  them,  and  which  may  have  heen 
so  hut  in  part,  was  trying  to  carry  out  the  real  design  of 
their  author. 

The  Daily  Courant,  put  forth  at  liondon  in  1709,  was 
the  first  daily  newspaper  issued  in  England.  But  earlier, 
and  in  1704  the  lievieiu  was  started  as  a  weekly.  Soon 
after  it  was  issued  twice  and  later  thrice  weekly.  In  size, 
the  first  four  numbers  excepted,  it  consisted  of  but  two 
leaves  in  quarto,  thus  making,  as  we  see.  but  a  small 
amount  of  printed  matter.  Concerning  the  Review,  we 
from  the  Britannica  article  on  Defoe  quote  as  follows  : 
"  This  was  a  paper  which  was  issued  during  the  greater 
part  of  its  life  three  times  a  week.  It  was  entirely  written 
by  Defoe,  and  extended  to  eight  complete  volumes  and 
some  few  score  numbers  of  a  second  issue.  He  did  not 
confine  himself  to  news,  but  threw  his  writing  into  the 
form  of  something  very  like  finished  essays  on  questions 
of  policy,  trade,  and  domestic  concerns  ;  while  he  also 
introduced  a  so-called  '  Scnndal  Club,'  in  which  minor 
questions  of  manners  and  morals  were  treated  in  a  way 
which  undoubtedly  suggested  the  Tatlers  and  Spectators 
which  followed.  It  is  probable  that  if  the  five  points  of 
bulk,  rapidity  of  production,  variet}-  of  matter,  originality 
of  design  and  excellency  of  style  are  taken  together,  hardly 
any  author  can  show  a  woik  of  equal  nuiguitude.  It  is 
unlucky  that  only  one  complete,copy  of  the  work  is  known 
to  exist,  and  that  is  in  a  private  library."  ' 

The  Review  was  brought  to  conclusion  by  the  title  "  A 
Review  of  the  State  of  the  British  Nation,"  and  with  the 
preface,  from  which  we  have  already  quoted  at  p.  421.  This 
was  followed  by  a  work  entitled  "  A  Plan  of  the  English 
Commerce  ;  being  a  Complete  Prospect  of  the  Trade  of  this 
Nation,  as  well  the  Home  Trade  as  the  Foreign." 

The  works  issued  from  the  time  of  Defoe's  imprison- 
ment until  his  death,  in  1731,  may  be  seen  in  any  good 
life  of  Defoe.  They  are  too  numerous  to  mention  here. 
Concerning  those  issued  after  this  period,  Lee,  in  the  in- 
troduction to  his  work,  says  that  his  numerous  works 
published  during  the  last  twenty-five  years  of  his  life 
were,  with  about  three  excej)tions,  either  anonymous  jor 

'  See  Bacon's  statement,  made  in  1623,  concerning  a  continuance 
of  his  Essays,  p.  317.  As  to  the  "  Scandal  Club"  and  high- nonsense 
■we  shall  later  have  occasion  to  refer. 


HARLEY    AND    DEFOE.  439 

pseudonymous.*  He  also  says  "he  rarely  alludes  to  his 
previous  works,  or  to  his  private  affairs.  Occasionally  in 
his  Review,  and  more  extensively  in  his  '  Appeal  to  Honor 
and  Justice  '  may  be  found  fragments  of  his  personal  his- 
tory ;  but  in  general,  we  learn  more  about  him  in  his 
works  from  the  slanderous  attacks  of  opponents,  than 
directly  from  his  own  pen  ;  and  he  often  left  his  antag- 
onists unanswered,  rather-than  descend  from  his  discussion 
of  important  principles  to  the  defence  of  his  own  char- 
acter." 

Touching  private  affairs  and  literary  methods  Bacon 
says  :  "  Let  him  who  comes  to  interpret  thus  prepare  and 
qualify  himself  ;  let  him  not  be  a  follower  of  novelty,  nor 
of  custom  or  antiquity  ;  neither  let  him  embrace  the 
license  of  contradicting  nor  the  servitude  of  authority. 
Let  him  not  be  hasty  to  affirm  or  unrestrained  in  doubt- 
ing, but  let  him  produce  everything  marked  with  a  certain 
degree  of  probation.  Let  hope  be  the  cause  of  labor  to 
him,  not  of  idleness.  Let  him  estimate  things  not  by 
their  rareness,  difficulty,  or  credit,  but  by  their  real  im- 
portance. Let  him  manage  his  private  affairs  under  a 
mask,  yet  with  some  regard  for  the  provisions  of  things. 
Let  him  prudently  observe  the  firsb  entrances  of  errors  into 
truths,  and  of  truths  into  errors,  nothing  contemning  or 
admiring.  Let  him  know  the  advantages  of  his  nature  ; 
and  let  him  humor  the  nature  of  others,  for  no  man  is 
angry  with  the  stone  that  is  striking  him.  Let  hira,  as  it 
were,  with  one  eye  scan  the  nature  of  things  ;  with  the 
other,  the  uses  of  mankind.  Of  words  let  him  distinctly 
know  the  mixed  nature,  which  especially  partakes  of 
advantage  and  of  inconvenience.  Let  him  determine  that 
with  invention's  the  art  of  inventing  grows.  Also  let  him 
not  be  vain  in  concealing  or  in  setting  forth  the  knowledge 
which  he  hath  obtained,  but  ingenious  and  prudent,  and 
let-liim  commend  his  inventions,  not  ambitiously  or  spite- 
fully, but  first  in  a  manner  most  vivid  and  fresh,  that  is, 
most  fortified  against  the  injuries  of  time,  and  most  power- 
ful for  the  propagation  of  science,  then  least  capable  of 
begetting  errors,  and  above  all,  such  as  may  procure  him 
a  legitimate  reader."     (Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  543.) 

'  All  issund  prior  to  his  arrest  were  anonymous,  as  we  have  seen. 
We  understand  the  same  to  be  true  as  to  the  parts  put  forth  by  the 
other  actors,  those  of  Swift  and  Addison  included. 


440  HA  RLE  Y    AND    DEFOE. 

The  Defoe  literature,  in  general,  will  be  found  notably 
shy  as  to  any  elements  touching  their  author,  as  are  the 
Shakespeare  writings.  But,  again,  portions  of  them  will 
be  found  notably  prominent  to  tell,  and  as  if  by  effort,  to 
link  them  to  definite  events.  Interpolatory  matter  will 
commonly  be  found  where  such  statements  occur.  Other 
journals  in  which  Defoe  is  said  to  have  been  more  or  less 
interested  were  started  after  the  close  of  the  Eevietv  in 
1713,  and  which  were  doubtless  under  ITarley's  control. 
In  these  Lee  found  what  is  known  as  Defoe's  Newly  Dis- 
covered Writings.  Until  their  discovery  it  was  generally 
supposed  that  Defoe's  political  career  had  ended  with  his 
mentioned  "  Appeal  to  Honor  and  Justice"  in  1715.  To 
these  we  shall  later  have  occasion  to  refer  in  the  farther 
elucidation  of  our  subject. 

From  this  time  to  Defoe's  death,  said  to  have  occurred 
in  Ropemaker's  Alley,  Moorfield,  April  26th,  1731,  I  do 
not  understand  that  there  is  anything  known  of  him 
further  than  as  stated,  except  items  of  inference  drawn 
from  the  writings  themselves,  and  which,  indeed,  is  true 
as  to  much  of  that  already  presented.  He  left  no  will,  and 
is  said  to  have  died  in  a  kind  of  concealment.  He  evi- 
dently had  no  effects  of  value,  as,  while  having  children, 
a  creditor  is  said  to  have  taken  letters  of  administration 
more  than  two  years  after  his  death. 

Thus  have  we  presented  for  the  reader's  consideration 
and  to  the  light  of  what  follows  the  chief  accredited  facts 
as  to  the  man  Defoe,  concerning  whom  Chalmers,  in  clos- 
ing his  Life  of  Defoe,  issued  in  1790,  but  sixty  years  after 
Defoe's  death,  says  :  "  The  zealous  interposition  of  Mr, 
Lockyer  Davis,  and  the  liberal  spirit  of  the  Stationers' 
Company,  procured  me  the  perusal  of  the  Eegister  of 
books,  which  have  been  entered  at  Stationers'  Hall.  I 
was  surprised  and  disappointed  to  find  so  few  of  De  Foe's 
writings  entered  as  property,  and  his  name  never  men- 
tioned as  an  author  or  a  man." 

These  writings,  however,  whoever  may  have  been  their 
author,  accomplished  :  1.  The  act  of  union  by  which  Eng- 
land and  Scotland  became  one  people  ;  2.  The  overthrow 
of  the  Stuart  line  of  kings  and  a  secure  Protestant  dynasty 
to  the  United  Kingdom. 

Until  1707  Scotland  remained  a  kingdom  having  a 
Parliament  of  its  own,  which  might  have  arranged  for  a 


HARLET   AND    DEFOE.  441 

king  different  from  the  line  fixed  upon  by  the  English 
Act  of  Settlement,  and  hence  the  importance  of  the  men- 
tioned union.  James  the  First  and  his  line,  it  will  be 
remembered,  but  inherited  the  English  crown  upon  the 
death  of  Elizabeth,  and  James  the  Second  and  his  son  were 
now  set  aside.  This  act  of  union  Bacon  labored  much  to 
effect  at  the  accession  of  James  the  First,  as  we  have  seen. 
The  English  Act  of  Settlement,  passed  in  1701,  provided 
that  after  Anne's  death  the  crown  should  pass  to  the  Ger- 
man line,  the  House  of  Hanover,  and  thus  to  the  Princess 
Sophia,  a  daughter  of  Elizabeth,  the  Electress  Palatine, 
whose  husband,  Frederick  the  Fifth  of  Germany,  had 
been  head  of  the  Protestant  union  of  German  princes  and 
King  of  Bohemia,  as  we  have  seen.  Did  Bacon  favor  the 
German  line  ?  This  act  of  settlement  brought  George,  the 
son  of  Sophia,  to  the  English  throne,  in  1714,  as  George 
the  First,  as  appears  in  earlier  pages. 

During  King  William's  reign  he  is  said  to  have  been 
much  exercised  with  fears  concerning  the  Spanish  mon- 
archy, and  out  of  which  grevv  the  already  mentioned  war 
with  France.'  While  Harley  had  promised  much  to  the 
Jacobites,  he  still  had  not  acted  in  their  interest,  and  for 
this  reason  the  mentioned  prosecution  against  him  proved 
abortive. 

In  the  preface  to  the  Defoe  v/-ork,  entitled  "  Memoirs  of 
a  Cavalier,"  a  sadly  garbled  work,  I  find  these  lines  : 
"  Memoranda. — 1  found  this  manuscript  among  my 
father's  writings,  and  I  understand  that  he  got  them  as 
plunder,   at  or  after,   the  fight  at  Worcester,   where  he 

served  as  major  of 's  regiment  of  horse  on  the  side  of 

the  Parliament.     I.  K." 

Was  the  name  here  left  blank  Harley's  ?  We  have  seen 
that  at  the  Eevolution  of  1688  he  and  his  father  took 
possession  of  Worcester  in  William's  interest.  The  men- 
tioned preface  begins  thus  :  "  As  an  evidence  that  it  is 
very  probable  these  memorials  were  written  many  years 
ago,  the  persons  now  concerned  in  the  publication  assure 
the  reader,  that  they  hava  had  them  in  their  possession, 

'  Let  it  be  investigated  as  to  whether  King  William  had  knowl- 
edge concerning  these  writings.  Our  field  is  so  wide  in  its  relations 
that  time  has  not  as  yet  permitted  full  investigation.  Why  should 
Bacon's  manuscripts  upon  his  reputed  death  have  been  sent  to  The 
Hague  ?    See  p.  184. 


442  HARLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

finished  as  they  now  appear,  above  twenty  years.  That 
they  were  so  long  ago  found  by  great  accident,  among 
other  vahiable  papers,  in  the  closet  of  an  eminent  public 
minister,  of  no  less  figure  than  one  of  King  William's 
secretaries  of  State." 

Let  it  be  investigated  as  to  whether  there  is  any  con- 
nection existing  between  these  writings  and  the  following 
quotation  from  Knight's  History  of  England,  vol.  iv.,  p. 
357: 

"  At  the  -village  of  Hurley,  on  the  Berkshire  side  of  the 
Thames  between  Henley  and  Maidenhead,  stood,  in  1836, 
an  Elizabethan  mansion  called  Lady  Place,  built  on  the 
site  of  a  Benedictine  monastery  by  Sir  Eichard  Lovelace, 
who  was  created  a  peer  by  Charles  I.  This  building  was 
the  seat  of  Lord  Lovelace  in  the  reign  of  Charles  IL  and 
James  IL, — a  nobleman  whose  lavish  hospitality  and  ex- 
pensive tastes  were  rapidly  wasting  '  the  King  of  Spain's 
cloth  of  silver'  which  his  ancestor,  one  of  Drake's  privateer- 
ing followers,  had  won.  The  spacious  hall  opening  to  the 
Thames,  the  stately  gallery  wiiose  panels  were  covered 
with  Italian  landscapes,  and  terraced  gardens — were  ruined 
and  neglected  when  we  there  meditated,  some  thirty  years 
ago,  upon  the  lessons  of  '  Mutability.'  All  the  renuiins 
of  past  grandeur  are  now  swept  away.  But  beneath  the 
Tudor  building  were  the  burial  vaults  of  the  house  of 
'  Our  Lady  '  which  seemed  built  for  all  time,  and  which, 
we  believe,  are  still  undisturbed.  In  these  vaults  was  a 
modern  inscription  which  recorded  that  the  Monastery  of 
Lady  Place  was  founded  at  the  time  of  the  great  Norman 
Revolution,  and  that  *  in  this  place,  six  hundred  years 
afterwards,  the  Revolution  of  1G88  was  begun.'  King 
William  III.,  the  tablet  also  recorded,  visited  this  vault, 
and  looked  upon  the  '  Recesses '  in  which  '  several  con- 
sultations for  calling  in  the  Prince  of  Orange  were  held.' 
During  the  four  years  in  which  James  had  been  on  the 
throne,  the  question  of  armed  resistance  had  been  con- 
stantly present  to  the  minds  of  many  Whigs  ;  and  to  the 
Prince  of  Orange  they  looked  for  aid  in  some  open  attempt 
to  change  the  policy  of  the  government  by  force, — or,  if 
necessary,  to  subvert  it."  '      The  wife  of  the  Prince  of 

'  We  have  already  intimated,  and  from  many  data,  tliat  Lord 
Bacon  instead  of  going  into  liis  grave  in  1G26  went  into  retirement. 
We  have  likewise  intimated  a  belief  in  his  having  a  financial  interest 


HARLEY    AND    DEFOE.  443 

Orange  was  the  presumptive  heir  to  the  crown  ;  he  was 
himself  the  nephew  of  the  English  King." 

Lee,  as  to  the  mentioned  work,  "  The  Cavalier,"  says  : 

"  With  equal  truth  it  may  be  affirmed,  that  there  are 
many  passages  in  these  Memoirs,  which  Defoe  neither 
could,  nor  would  have  written.  It  will  be  sufficient  to 
allude  only  to  the  great  hatred  expressed  towards  the 
Scotch  nation  in  various  parts  of  the  work.  They  are 
branded  with  infamy,  for  having  sold  their  honesty,  and 
rebelled  for  money  against  the  King,  to  whom  they  had 
sworn  allegiance.  In  another  place  he  calls  them  '  these 
cursed  Scots,'  and  towards  the  end  of  the  Memoirs,  de- 
clares bitterly,  that  they  sold  the  King  for  money  into  the 
hands  of  his  murderous  enemies.  I  may  also  remark,  that 
while  there  is  nothing  iu  the  '  Cavalier  '  or  his  story,  un- 
becoming the  high  character  of  an  English  gentleman, 
yet  is  there  little  to  be  seen  of  the  moral  and  religious 
spirit  of  dependence  upon  Providence,  and  appeal  to  the 
Scriptures,  so  characteristic  of  Defoe,  even  in  his  works  of 
fiction. 

"  In  style  and  diction,  I  may  say  that  there  are  occasion- 
ally whole  paragra])hs  that  scarcely  afford  a  trace  of 
Defoe's  pen  ;  although  generally,  he  appears  to  have  re- 
vised, and  often  rewritten  and  extended  the  manuscrii)t. 
His  mind  as  well  as  his  hand  is  much  more  perceptible  in 
the  latter  part  of  the  book  than  in  the  former  ;  and,  as 
he  was  better  acquainted  with  the  geography  and  physical 
character  of  his  own  country  than  that  of  Germany,  this 
part  of  the  narrative  is  often  very  characteristic  of  his 
genius."     (Lee,  vol.  i.,  p.  333.) 

Though  thinking  Defoe  had  time  to  spend  upon  the 
writings  of  other  men,  Lee  at  least  distinctly  admits  that 
there  is  more  than  one  hand  discernible  in  this  work. 
What  is  said  of  this  particular  work  is  true  as  to  many  of 
them,  though  in  general  it  is  true  only  where  it  becomes 
necessary  to  conform  them,  or  to  prevent  detection.  As 
already  stated,  the  interpolations  will  generally  be  found 
to  be  the  elements  bold  to  tell,  while  all  else  shows  caution 
and  especially  as  to  any  facts  touching  their  author.     Early 

for  many  years  in  the  voyages  of  Drake  and  others.  And  so  let 
some  investigation  centre  about  this  quotation.  As  he  is  most  surely 
the  author  of  these  writings,  so  let  us  see  if  we  may  not  find  the 
head  centre  of  his  designs. 


444  HARLEY    AND    DEFOE. 

in  my  investigation,  and  before  reading  Lee,  I  called  this 
work  under  review  ;  and  while  I  found  the  early  pages  to 
be  by  the  master  hand,  I  soon  found  myself  in  another 
element,  and  again  I  would  strike  the  clear  water  ;  but  so 
extensive  were  the  interpolations  that  my  interest  abated, 
and  I  soon  laid  it  aside,  and  have  not  since  found  time  for 
its  further  perusal. 

As  to  Crusoe,  Lee,  though  not  crediting  the  story,  says  : 

"  The  respect  due  to  everything  sanctioned  by  so  great 
an  authority  as  Sir  Henry  Ellis,  compels  me  to  notice  a 
strange  surprising  account  of  the  authorship  of  the  first 
volume  of  '  Robinson  Crusoe.'  Li  1843  Sir  Henry  edited, 
for  the  Camden  Society,  a  handsome  quarto  volume,  en- 
titled '  Original  Letters  of  Eminent  Literary  Men.'  At 
p.  320  is  a  letter  by  T.  Warton,  dated  1774,  stating  that 
the  Eev.  Benjamin  Holloway  told  him  that  Lord  Sunder- 
land told  him,  that  the  first  volume  of  '  Eobinson  Crusoe  ' 
was  written  by  Loid  Oxford  while  a  Prisoner  in  the  Tower, 
'as  an  amusement  under  confinement,'  and  was  given  to 
Defoe,  who  frequently  visited  him  there  ;  and,  that  Defoe 
printed  it  as  his  own,  with  his  Lordship's  approbation, 
and  added  a  second  volume  '  the  inferiority  of  which  is 
generally  acknowledged.'  "     (Lee,  vol.  i.,  p.  294.) 

As  to  the  work  entitled  *'  History  of  the  Plague  in  Lon- 
don," Lee,  p.  358,  says  : 

"  Defoe  was  but  four  years  old  at  the  time  of  the  great 
Plague  ;  and  therefore,  supposing  him  to  have  remained 
in  London  the  whole  time,  he  could  have  had  no  personal 
knowledge  beyond  the  dim  recollections  of  childhood  ; 
but  as  he  grew  up  to  maturity  he  must  have  conversed 
with  many  who  had  witnessed  all  its  horrors, — have  listened 
— at  a  time  when  the  memory  is  most  sensitive — to  many 
a  thrilling  story  of  its  devastations, — and  have  had  pointed 
out  to  him  the  locations,  not  obliterated  by  the  tire,  where 
its  deadly  rage  was  most  violent.  Such  a  mind  as  his  was 
probably  better  stored  with  the  real  history  of  the  Plague 
than  that  of  any  other  man  living  in  1721,  when  it  again 
threatened  to  visit  his  country,  and  when  the  attention  of 
all  thinking  people  was  painfully  directed  to  its  progress 
in  France." 

We  may  here  properly  state  that  on  several  occasions 
during  Bacon's  times  the  plague  visited  London,  and 
thrice  with  much  severity — in  1563-C4,  in  1592,  and  again 


HARLEY  AND   DEFOE.  445 

at  the  accession  of  James  the  First,  when  some  thirty- 
eight  thousand  died  of  it.  In  1620  it  again  threatened 
Northern  Europe.  Even  in  March,  1575,  while  he  was  at 
the  University,  it  was  dispersed  by  reason  of  it. 

In  his  Natural  History  reference  is  often  made  to  this 
subject.'  There  may  be  found  in  this  work  also  many 
interpolations.  But  space  will  not  permit  a  longer  stay 
upon  this  part  of  our  subject. 

Following  Harley's  death,  which  occurred  May  31st, 
1724,  a  man  by  the  name  of  Andrew  Moreton  appears  to 
have  become  more  or  less  connected  with  these  writings. 
Mr.  Lee  thinks  Defoe  assumed  the  name  Moreton  for  some 
unapparent  reason.  An  admirable  pamphlet,  entitled 
"  Every  Body's  Business  Is  Nobody's  Business,"  was 
thus  issued  in  Moreton's  name  in  1725,  though  evidently  a 
part  of  this  literature.  Concerning  it,  Mr.  Leo,  vol.  i., 
p.  398,  says  :  "  I  have  in  an  earlier  part  of  this  Memoir 
noticed  the  fact,  that  all  the  later  Works  of  Defoe  were 
published  without  his  Name,  and  have  endeavored  to  assign 
reasons  for  it  ;  it  is  less  easy  to  say  why  at  this  time,  and  for 
some  only  of  his  subsequent  productions,  he  assumed  the 
name  of  Andrew  Moreton.  I  shall  consider  in  its  phicc, 
the  probable  reason  ;  and  now  only  observe  that  the 
pamphlet  before  us  is  the  first  so  published." 

In  order  now  to  draw  the  mind  of  the  reader  in  the 
direction  of  the  subject  treated  under  our  next  title,  and 
thus  to  Defoe's  Newly  Discovered  Writings,  it  seems  proper 
to  state  that  at  about  the  time  of  the  close  of  the  Revietv, 
and  on  May  26th,  1713,  a  paper  known  as  Mercator^  was 

1  In  the  New  Atlantis  it  is  said  :  "  And  we  do  also  declare  natural 
divinations  of  disease,  plagues,  swarms  of  hurtful  creatures,  scarcity, 
tempests,  earthquakes,  great  inundations,  comets,  temperature  of 
the  year,'  and  diverse  other  things  ;  and  we  give  counsel  thereupon 
what  the  people  shall  do  for  the  prevention  and  remedy  of  them." 
Let  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy  be  called  into  relation  with  these 
thoughts,  and  where  hellebore,  the  sovereign  remedy  for  madness, 
is  considered.  Promus,  80.  (By  far  the  largest  portion  of  hellebore 
should  be  given  to  the  covetous.) 

'  Bacon  says  :  "  His  Lordship's  first  general  observation  was,  that 
merchants  were  of  two  sorts  ;  the  one  sought  their  fortunes  (as  the 
verse  saith),  per  snxa,  per  ignes  ;  and  as  it  is  said  in  the  same  place, 
extremos  excurrit  Mercator  ad  Indos ;  subjecting  themselves  to 
weather  and  tempests,  to  absence  and  as  it  were  exileoutof  their 
native  countries,  to  arrests  in  entrances  of  war,  to  foreign  injustice 
and  rigor  in  times  of  peace,  and  many  other  sufferances  and  adven- 


446  HARLEY    A?v"D    DEFOE. 

started  consisting  of  but  a  single  leaf  in  small  folio.  It 
treated  of  trade  and  commerce,  and  was  continued  until 
July  20th,  1714,  just  before  Barley's  dismissal  from  office 
as  Lord  Treasurer,  and  concerning  which  Lee,  vol.  i., 
p.  215,  says  :  "  The  Ministry  not  only  sanctioned  but 
assisted  the  managers  of  the  paper  by  placing  at  their 
service  the  Customs  Returns  of  Imports  and  Exports,  and 
other  national  sources  of  commercial  revenue,  for  statistical 
purposes.  It  is  a  significant  fact  that  Mercator  ceased  to 
exist  only  seven  days  before  the  discord  which  had  long 
reigned  in  the  Cabinet  was  brought  to  a  climax,  by  the 
dismissal  of  the  Earl  of  Oxford  from  the  office  of  Lord 
Treasurer." 

Is  it  not  thus  quite  evident  that  Ilarley — in  other  words, 
the  Earl  of  Oxford,  was  not  only  behind  these  doings,  but 
that  through  him  or  his  influence  was  furnished  forth  the 
material  by  which  these  papers  could  with  slight  labor  be 
conformed  to  the  times,  chasms  or  blank  spaces  being,  so 
far  as  we  know,  left  in  some  of  them  for  the  purpose, 
though  this  we  do  not  affirm.'  Again,  was  the  sending  of 
Harley  to  the  Tower  a  little  later,  in  1715,  the  cause  of 
the  sudden  breaking  off  of  the  partially  prepared  and  never 
finished  '''Appeal  to  Honor  and  Justice,"  already  called 
under  review  ?  As  to  Mercator  Lee  further  says  :  "  I  have 
already  stated  that  the  Mercator  was  discontinued  on  tlie 
20th  o"f  July  1714,  when  the  fall  of  the  Earl  of  Oxford  was 
imminent,  and  the  Customs  returns,  upon  which  the  statis- 
tics of  the  Papers  were  based,  would  probably  be  no  longer 
accessible."  ^     (Lee,  vol.  i.,  p.  230.) 

Though  Defoe  and  others  may  have  been  the  dial-plate, 
was  not  Ilarley,  after  all,  the  real  movement  in  these 
events  ?  This  thought  will  be  further  touched  upon  under 
our  next  title. 

tures  ;  but  that  there  were  others  that  took  a  more  safe  but  a  less 
dangerous  course  in  raising  their  fortunes."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol. 
ill.,  p.  3-48.) 

'  Some  of  these  writmgs  by  Swift,  as  "  The  Tale  of  a  Tub"  and 
"  The  Battle  of  the  Books,"  have  left  in  them  blank  spaces  called 
chasms.  See  in  this  connection  Addison's  use  of  this  word  "  chasm," 
and  particular]}"  in  vol.  iii..  p.  427. 

'^  Macaulav,  in  his  already  quoted  statements  concerning  Harley, 
says  he  always  appeared  as  one  possessed  of  some  monstrous  secret. 


THEE  AD  OF  THE  LABYRHNTH. 


Whatever  views  the  reader  may  entertain  concerning 
positions  already  taken  in  this  work,  he  will,  we  think, 
agree  with  ns  in  this,  that  if  Lord  Bacon  did  attempt 
subtle  and  unusual  methods  in  which  to  have  his  thoughts 
still  active  among  men,  or  as  stated  in  Sonnet  68,  at  p.  116, 
"  To  live  a  second  life  on  second  head,"  he  had  that 
peculiar  genius  which  would^enable  him  to  lay  them  remote 
from  detection. 

As  stated,  the  so-called  Newly  Discovered  Defoe  Papers 
■were  found  by  Lee  in  journals  started  not  only  after  the 
final  close  of  the  Review,  in  1713,  but  after  that  of 
Mercator,  in  1714,  and  in  a  sense  they  seem  to  fall  under 
a  head  by  themselves,  and  will  some  day,  we  apprehend, 
be  found  to  contain  more  than  has  yet  been  seen  in  them. 
They  were  what  in  journalism  came  to  be  known  as  lead- 
ing articles,  and  concerning  which  Lee,  vol.  i.,  p.  273, 
says  :  "  Thus  1  claim  for  Daniel  Defoe  that  he  first  origi- 
nated  and  exemplified  in  his  own  person  those  mighty 
agencies  in  the  formation  and  direction  of  public  opinion 
now  comprehended  in  the  word  Editor  and  Leading  Ar- 
ticle." And  we  may  add  that  some  of  them  may  be  taken 
for  pioneer  work  in  pointing  the  true  course  to  journalism. 
See  articles  beginning  at  \)\).  340  and  387. 

Many  of  these  articles  seem  so  written  as  to  serve  merely 
as  the  occasion  for  bringing  forth  others,  some  again  seem 
unusually  discordant,  while  others  have  been  taken  bodily 
from  out  their  true  relations  in  the  works  known  as  the 
stories  of  Defoe,  or  else  were  copied  bodily  from  the 
articles  into  the  stories. 

Numl^ers  of  them  contain  great  subtlety  and  what  may 
be  called  an  underlying  thread  of  thought.  Some,  if  not 
all,  serve,  doubtless,  as  framework  for  cypher  writing. 
In  connection  with  this  thought  we  introduce  two  articles 
from   Lee,   vol.  iii.,   pp.    149  and  172;  the  first,  entitled 


448  THREAD    OF   THE    LAJ3YRIXTH. 

*'  On  Cypher  Writing,"  the  second,  "  On  Cryptography  ;" 
Ihe  first  dated  June  22d,  the  second  August  17th,  1723.* 
We  give  them  in  their  order  thus  : 

'*  M.  J.  {MisVs  Journal],  June  22. — Sir,  I  being  one  of 
your  constant  Readers,  observe,  that  many  of  my  Fellow- 
Students  apply  to  you,  on  any  emergent  Occasion,  for 
Advice,  Information,  etc.,  as  to  a  general  Intelligencer. 
And,  though  I  have  been  your  constant  Reader  some 
Years,  yet  have  never  taken  that  Liberty  before,  but,  being 
"willing,  once  in  my  Life,  to  do  you  that  Honour,  I  thought 
I  never  should  have  a  more  proper  Occasion  than  now  ; 
for,  being  of  an  inquisitive  Disposition,  I  have  been 
puzzled  in  my  Tliouglits  for  some  Time.  In  short,  Sir, 
the  Occasion  of  giving  you  this  Trouble  is  this  :  — 

"  Being  in  Company  lately  with  some  of  my  Acquaint- 
ance, we  were  talking  of  several  Subjects  now  in  Fashion, 
and,  among  others,  of  the  modern  mysterious  Way  (to  use 
the  Words  of  a  late  Author)  of  decyphering  Words  wrote 
in  mysterious  Characters.  And  one  of  our  Company  did 
assure  us,  that  there  are  Persons  now  in  England  who  can 
decypher  a  Letter  wrote  in  any  Characters,  and  some  who 
can  find  out  the  true  Letters,  and  put  the  Words,  though 
the  Language  be  unknown  to  them.  So  that  when  they 
have  done  that,  they  know  not  the  Meaning  of  them 
without  an  Interpreter,"  Now  I,  who  have  no  opinion  of 
the  Art  of  Conjuration,  could  not  conceive  which  Way 
this  could  be  done  by  any  other  Art  ;  and,  as  he  could 
not  inform  me  where  such  Persons  were  to  be  found,  so, 
for  the  Reason  aforesaid,  he  left  me  under  Uneasiness  of 
Thought  which  Way  to  know  the  Truth  of  this  Matter  ; 
for  I  thought  that  to  find  this  performed,  would  be  more 
curious  than  all  the  Arts  of  Hocus  Pocus  that  ever  I  saw, 
besides  the  Usefulness  of  it.  For,  as  it  may  be  very  use- 
ful to  many  Persons,  as  well  in  a  private  as  in  a  publick 
Capacity,  to  have   Ways  of  writing  their  Secret,  though 

*  Lord  Bacon,  as  is  well  known,  was  familiar  with  all  of  the  sub- 
tleties of  this  subject.  And  in  1623,  one  hundred  years  prior  to  the 
appearance  of  these  Defoe  articles,  he,  in  his  De  Auginentis,  presents 
different  phases  of  it  and  sets  out  what  he  regarded  as  the  most 
perfect  example  of  a  cypher.  See  pp.  71-76.  In  his  great  Poetic 
Commonwealth  these  papers  were  part  of  the  scheme. 

^  The  Interpreter  is  indeed  a  needful  character  in  these  writings 
and,  as  will  appear  in  connection  with  the  subject,  of  "high  non- 
sense," hereafter  touched  upon.     And  see  p.  80,  note  1, 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  449 

innocent  Affairs,  to  one  another,  in  Characters  known  to 
few,  if  any,  besides  themselves  ;  so  it  would  be  of  great 
Satisfaction  to  the  Publick,  to  find  that  no  Persons  can 
carry  on  any  Correspondence,  by  Letters,  against  the 
Interest  of  their  Country,  so  private,  but  that  some  People 
can  discover  it.  Also  it  would  be  a  Means  to  deter  any 
one  from  it,  when  he  finds  that  his  Meaning  can  be  dis- 
covered by  some,  in  whatever  Characters  he  writeth. '  At 
length  I  considered  with  myself,  who  should  I  apply  to, 
but  to  one,  who  (if  I  mistake  not  your  own  Words)  hath 
dipp'd  into  all  Arts  and  Sciences,  and,  I  suppose,  all 
Mysteries,  and  one  who  hath  seen  a  great  deal  of  the 
Hocus  Pociis  Art. 

"  Then,  prythee  Mist,  put  on  your  Conjuring  Cap,  and 
try  at  the  few  following  Lines  ;  and  if  you  find  them 
beyond  your  skill,  be  so  candid  and  ingenious  as  freely  to 
acknowledge  your  Incapacity  in  this  Art,  and  desire  some 
other  more  mysterious  Sons  of  Art,  to  do  it  for  you.  Let 
me  have  the  true  Meaning  of  tliem  in  plain  Englisli,  in 
some  of  your  Journals  shortly,  or  else  let  it  be  known, 
that  there  is  one  Person,  at  least,  in  the  World,  who  can- 
not believe  that  there  is  any  certainty  in  this  Art.  And, 
to  help  you  something  forward  on  your  Way,  I  assure 
you,  that  these  are  all  English  Words,  and  not  Words 
without  any  Signification,  but  the  Sense  of  them  coherent  ; 
though,  perhaps,  not  in  the  most  jDolite  Style,  according 
to  the  Modern  and  best  Way  of  writing  English,  because 
such  Words  are  made  use  of  as  may  make  the  greater 
Difficulty  in  the  Discovery.  And  take  tliis  also  along  with 
you,  that  if,  upon  Trial,  you  do  not  find  them  to  be  of  an 
innocent  Meaning,  you  may  assure  yourself,  that  your  Art 
fails  you,  and  you  must  turn  over  your  Books  once  more  ; 
for  neither  you,  nor  any  Man  living,  can  put  any  ill  Con- 
struction on  them,  if  they  give  the  true  Meaning  of  them, 
which  will  be  known  by  the  Key,  which  shall  be  faith- 
fully  transmitted  to  you,  as  soon  as  you  have  dec}'pher'd 
them,  or  acknowledg'd  your  Incapacity  in  this  Art. 

"  Please  to  insert  this,  with  the  following  Cypher,  in 
your  next  Journal,  and  you'll  oblige  many  of  your  Eeaders. 
"  I  am,  Your  humble  Servant,  etc. 

'  Look  at  Bacon  on  the  subject  of  "  real  characters,"  chs.  1  and  2 
of  Book  6  of  the  De  Augmentis.     See  quotations,  pp.  71-76. 

15 


450  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

"  pmos  kwafroz  rmyzo  kgy307x  829vmqyd4  ca 
39ZXOWZ  nft  reysrod6ywz  xmoz&  hwasi  m67eyw  yfxe 
vm&ag  cuzx&gz  usa  xmocz&dloz  49bopaz&  hoe&qax  ysv6 
reJc67pondxmz  24z6  yuioM  kwerygo  ie63pa4d  qwec  xmo9w 
qod46p  zyhforvz  xepnwtz  xm&ag  zelownais  273  8w6j 
xmoag  basi  y7x6  maz  k&ekdo  wouzef  paxm  o5k&waosr& 
hexm  zmop  vmnx  qgej  resxwngM  rnyzoz  398q&wosx 
oqS&ruz  kg6r&o3." 

"  M.  /.,  Aug.  17. — Since  my  first  giving  the  Publick  a 
Letter  in  Cyphers,  which  I  exphiin'd,  I  have  receiv'd  sev- 
eral others  to  the  same  Effect ;  and  some  of  my  Corre- 
spondents are  so  fond  of  the  Hnmour,  that  they  will  write 
to  me  no  other  Way,  by  which  means  it  takes  me  np  as 
much  Time  and  Stndy  to  come  at  the  Sense  of  an  Epistle, 
as  it  does  a  School  Boy  to  construe  his  Lesson  ;  and,  if  the 
Whim  continues,  I  shall  be  oblig'd  to  keep  an  extraor- 
dinary Secretary  for  decyphering,  which  must  cause  a 
Deficiency  in  my  private  Civil  List,  and  oblige  me  to  lay 
a  Tax  upon  the  Public,  for  the  Service  of  the  Year, — that 
is,  raise  the  Price  of  my  Paper. 

"  I  can  assure  my  Readers,  I  never  had  any  Notion  of 
Pleasure  in  a  Fox  Chase,  where  a  Man  rides  till  he  Fatigues 
himself,  and  then  digs  to  come  at  the  Fox  ;  I  say,  after 
he  has  taken  all  those  Pains,  and  has  killed  his  Game,  he 
finds  the  Beast  is  good  for  nothing.  Thus  it  has  fared 
with  me  in  some  of  those  Tryals  of  Skill  ;  1  have  pored 
and  studied  to  unravel  all  the  Intricacies  of  one  of  these 
Letters,  and  when  I  have  discovered  all,  I  have  met  with 
nothing  to  reward  my  Trouble,  or  that  could  entertain  my 
Eeaders  ;  so  that  I  have  had  my  Labour  for  my  Pains. 

"  But  perhaps,  it  may  be  the  Fashion  now,  to  invent 
new  Alphabets  ;  and  the  Modes  alter  in  these  Things,  as 
much,  and  as  often  as  in  Dress.  I  remember  once  a  Man 
was  reckoned  Ignorant  and  111  bred,  who,  in  writing  to  a 
Person  of  any  Condition,  did  not  make  at  least  two  thirds 
of  his  Paper  to  consist  of  Margin.  After  this  Fashion 
had  its  Run,  it  became  a  Piece  of  Rudeness  to  make  any 
Margin  at  all,  and  it  was  Polite  to  begin  the  Letter  very 
low,  leaving  a  large  void  Area  at  Top,  so  that  the  first 
Page  of  a  well-bred  Epistle  was  almost  a  carte-hlanche. 
I  expect  very  soon  that  some  whimsical  Person,  who  is 
considerable  enough  to  be  followed  and  flattered  ;  will 
introduce  a  new   Mode  of   beginning  the  Letter  at  the 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH,  451 

bottom  of  the  Page,  and  writing  up  to  the  Top,  as  the 
Hebrews  were  accustomed  to  do.  No  Time  can  be  more 
apt  to  receive  such  a  Custom  than  the  present,  when  all 
Actions  seem  to  run  retrograde,  and  Men  act  backwards 
in  all  Things. 

"  But  this  Maggot'  of  writing  in  Cyphers  and  Figures, 
is  not  entirely  new,  a  Whim  not  unlike  it  started  up  some 
Years  since,  when  several  elaborate  Pieces  were  published 
for  the  Edification  of  the  Youth  of  this  City,  under  the 
Title  of  Tunbridge  Letters ;  in  which  certain  Figures 
were  made  use  of  to  stand  for  Words  and  Syllables.  It 
seemed  an  ingenious  Invention  of  writing  "Shorthand, 
after  a  long  laborious  Manner  ;  as  if  going  round  about 
had  been  the  nearest  Way  Home. 

"  Yet  this  was  the  Summer's  Entertainment  of  our 
Beans  and  Belles,  at  which  Sport,  when  a  xMan  had 
taken  as  much  Pains  as  a  Dutch  Commentator,  and  was 
come  to  the  End  of  his  Labours  ;  he  discovered  a  miserable 
Piece  of  Nonsense,  without  Meaning  or  Design,  a  Diver- 
sion only  fit  for  those  who  otherwise  would  pass  their 
Time  at  the  more  ingenious  Amusement  of  catching  Flies. 

"  I  find  this  Folly  ridiculed  by  Ben  Jonson  in  his 
celebrated  Play  of  the  Alchymis't,  where  Ahel  Drugger 
causes  his  Name  to  be  writ  upon  his  Sign,  with  the  Letter 
A  and  a  Bell  painted,  for  Abel,  the  Letter  D,  with  a 
Rug,  and  a  Dog  grinning  for  Drugger.  So  that  we  find 
that  this  is  only  an  old  Folly  reviv'd. 

"This  kind  of  Learning  was  first  borrowed  from  the 
Egyptians,  who  used  it  to  purposes,  very  different  from 

'  As  to  this  use  of  the  word  "  maggot,"  we,  from  Love's  Labour's 
Lost.  Act  V  ,  sc.  2,  p.  453,  quote  as  follows  : 
"  O  !  never  will  I  trust  to  speeches  penn'd, 
Nor  to  the  motion  of  a  schoolboy's  tongue  ; 
Nor  never  come  in  visor  to  my  friend  ; 
Nor  woo  in  rhyme,  like  a  blind  harper's  song  ; 
Taffata  phrases,  silken  terms  precise, 
Three-pil'd  hyperboles,  spruce  affectation, 
Figures  pedantical  ;  these  summer-flies 
Have  blown  me  full  of  maggot  ostentation  : 
I  do  foreswear  them  ;  and  I  here  protest, 
By  this  white  glove,  (how  white  the  hand,  God  knows  !) 
Henceforth  my  wooimr  mind  shall  be  express'd 
In  russet  yeas,  and  honest  kersey  noes  : 
And.  to  begin,  wench,— so  God  help  me,  la  ! — 
My  love  to  thee  is  sound,  sans  crack  or  flaw." 


452  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRIKTH. 

what  our  Moderns  have  done  ;  'tis  said,  that  under  the 
Figures  of  Birds  and  Beasts,  the  Mysteries  of  their  Ee- 
ligion  were  couch'd,  and  that  the  Magicians  discovered, 
this  Way,  in  order  to  conceal  them  from  the  Vulgar.' 

"  After  this,  they  used  the  same  figurative  Way  of  ex- 
pressing the  Qualities  of  the  Body,  or  Virtues  of  the 
Mind,  and  particularly  upon  the  Tombs  of  great  Men  ;  as 
Strength  was  express'd  by  an  Elepliant,  Faithfulness  by  a 
Dog,  and  this  was  their  manner  of  writing  Epitaphs. 

"  AVe  follow  the  Example  in  our  Days  in  Respect  to  the 
Living  ;  and  we  find  a  Way  of  praising  the  Qualities  of  a 
Man  by  the  choice  of  the  Presents  we  make  him, — as  a 
Lion,  which  is  an  Emblem  of  Courage  and  Generosity,  is 
commonly  presented  to  a  King  ;  whereas  we  give  Parrots 
to  Women, — and  I  have  known  a  Monkey  sometimes  pre- 
sented to  a  Beau. 

"  And  in  this  "Way  of  communicating  one's  Thoughts, 
a  ]\lan  may  be  Satirical,  and  give  others  a  Hint  of  their 
Vices,  as  well  as  by  Writing  ;  for  when  we  find  ourselves 
vex'd  and  oppressed  by  Persons  too  powerful  for  us  to 
contend  with  in  a  lawful  Way,  we  may  ridicule  their 
Vices  in  a  Manner  not  cognizable  by  a  Statute. 

"I  have  heard  a  Story  of  an  arbitrary  Minister  in 
France,  who  was  Persecutor  of  the  Wits  of  that  Age  in 
general  ;  but  he  pursued  one  with  a  more  than  common 
hatred.  The  merry  Sufferer  was  every  now  and  then 
sending  his  Persecutor  something  to  remember  him,  as  an 
A'pe  or  a  Cat,  or  other  Animals,  which  are  the  Images  of 
Malice  and  Eevenge.  The  ridiculous  Presents  were  always 
attended  with  Crowds  of  People,  to  the  Gates  of  that  great 

'  Look  into  Addison  and  into  the  plays  for  these  elements,  and 
note  in  Bacon's  quoted  prayer  what  he  says  about  studying  God's 
creatures  as  well  as  his  Scriptures.  These  elements  will  be  found 
spread  more  or  less  into  the  parts  played  by  the  various  actors  in 
this  great  drama,  and  so  are  found  in  Defoe,' Swift,  Addison,  Steele 
and  some  others.  And  so,  again,  we  remind  the  reader  that  Bacon 
had  good  reasons  for  saying  in  Sonnet  55  that  his  praise  should  still 
find  room 

"  Even  in  the  eyes  of  all  posterity, 
That  wears  this  world  out  to  the  ending  doom." 

And  he  ends  Sonnet  146  thus  : 

"  And  death  once  dead,  there's  no  more  dying  then" 
Promus,  936.  {After  my  death  no  hurt  can  come  to  me.) 


THEEAD   OF  THE   LABYRINTH.  453 

Mau,  for  all  Men  were  pleased  with  anything  that  ridiculed 
him  ;  and  he  was  at  length  convinced,  that  he  had  hetter 
correct  those  Vices  that  provoked  the  general  Hatred 
against  him,  than  in  the  Wantonness  of  his  Power,  to 
crush  a  poor  Man  much  superior  to  himself  in  every 
Thing  that's  commendable,  only  for  endeavoring  by  his 
Writings  to  entertain  and  instruct  the  People. 

"  The  Turks  have  a  Way  of  communicating  their 
Thoughts  to  each  other,  different  from  any  before-named. 
It  is  a  Correspondence  invented  to  carry  on  the  Affairs  of 
Love  ;  and  nothing  is  more  common  there,  than  for  a 
Lady  to  receive  a  Billet  doux  in  a  Nosegay,  which  she 
answers,  by  sending  back  another  Nosegay,  and  the  Lover 
knows  his  Fate,  by  perusing  the  Flowers.  Perhaps  it 
may  be  thought  that  he  who  has  the  finest  Garden  may 
be  the  most  eloquent  in  this  Way  of  Address  ;  but  that 
does  not  always  follow,  for  it  is  not  in  the  Quantity,  but 
in  the  Choice  of  the  Flowers,  and  the  different  JManner  of 
ranging  them,  by  which  the  Lover  signifies  the  Tenderness 
of  his  Passion,  and  lets  his  Mistress  know  his  Pain  ;  but 
be  that  as  it  will,  it  is  certain  that  an  Amour  is  often  carried 
on  by  an  Intercourse  of  this  Kind,  and  the  Lovers,  per- 
haps, never  talk  to  one  another  till  they  meet  to  have  the 
Ceremony  of  Marriage  performed. 

"  I  could  teach  myReaders  this  mystick  Art  of  making  up 
Love  Nosegays,  but  I  forbear  it  out  of  a  Consideration, 
that  it  may  tend  to  promote  Clandestine  Marriages,  and 
instruct  young  Ladies  how  to  deceive  and  outwit  their 
Guardians  and  Parents  ;  and  it  is  often  found  that  m 
Love  Affairs  they  are  but  too  witty  already." 

Touching  the  external  of  some  of  these  articles,  it  may 
be  said,  that  as  the  attention  of  men  can  be  gained  only 
by  that  which  interests  them,  so  can  they  be_  brought 
higher  only  by  bait  framed  to  their  capacities ;  and 
hence  he  who  takes  all  knowledge  for  his  providence, 
must  needs  have  a  scale  that  touches  as  well  the  lowest  as 
the  highest  human  capacity.  And  thus  much  may  be  said 
concerning  the  so-called  'sScaudal  Club"  of  the  Review 
mentioned  at  p.  4:38  and  the  subject  of  high  nonsense 
later  touched  upon.  W^e  must  permit  Lord  Bacon  to  be 
what  he  was — a  prodigy  of  wonder.  Macaulay  of  him  says  : 
"  The  best  collection  of  jests  in  the  world  is  that  which 
he  dictated  from  memory  without  referring  to  any  book. 


454  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

on  a  day  on  -vvhich  illness  had  rendered  him  incapable  of 
serious  study."     See  pp.  192  and  193. 

We  would  have  the  reader  note  the  strange  use  of  capital 
letters  in  these  articles.  They  thus  occur  in  all  of  the 
newly  discovered  Defoe  papers.  The  same  is  true  as  to 
the  A.  D.  B.  Mask  and  "  Weldon's  Court  and  Character  of 
King  James."  Let  the  reader  find,  if  he  can,  some  reason, 
rule,  or  end  in  these  methods.'  Mr.  Spedding,  in  his 
labored  effort  to  show  which  of  the  two  versions  of  Bacon's 
paper  of  advice  to  George  Villiers,  afterward  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  was  first  produced,  as  to  the  shorter  version 
says:  "And  as  for  punctuation  and  capitals  they  are 
governed  by  no  principle  of  any  kind,  and  would  be  very 
uncouth  and  perplexing  to  the  reader  of  a  modern  page."  ' 
These,  therefore,  he  has  changed,  as  he  tells  us.  May  not 
the  turning  of  that  paper  into  this  form  have  been  the 
chief  object  in  reproducing  it?  This  we  suggest  as  ques- 
tion is  made  as  to  why  Bacon  should  have  cared  to  repro- 
duce it.     See  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vi.,  pp.  9-27. 

In  order  now  to  bring  this  particular  phase  of  our  sub- 
ject, as  to  subtlety  and  cyphers,  at  once  into  relation,  it 
becomes  necessary  to  quote  from  other  parts  prepared  for 
the  actors  in  this  literary  scheme,  and  so  introduce  from 
those  great  satires,'  Gulliver's  Travels,  by  Swift,  pp.  229- 
31,  the  following  : 

•'  I  told  him,  that  in  the  kingdom  of  Tribnia,  by  the 
natives  called  Langden,  where  I  had  sojourned  some  time 

'  See  this  work,  pp.  71-75,  and  ch.  12  of  Book  2  of  the  De  Aug- 
mentis.  And  in  ch.  2  of  Book  6  we  have  :  "  And  (as  I  have  already 
said)  uniformity  of  method  is  not  compatible  with  uniformity  of 
matter.  Wherefore  as  I  approve  of  Particular  Topics  for  iuvention, 
so  to  a  certain  extent  I  allow  of  Particular  Methods  for  transmis- 
sion." 

'^  Mr.  Spedding  in  his  preface  to  Bacon's  History  of  Henry  the 
Seventh  also  says  :  "  The  various  readings  of  the  printed  copy  I  have 
quoted  in  the  notes  :  neglecting,  however,  all  varieties  of  mere  form, 
such  as  the  introduction  of  capital  letters,  of  italics,  and  of  inverted 
commas  ;  which,  as  there  is  no  direction  for  them  in  the  manuscript,  ^ 
1  ascribe  to  the  printer's  fancy  and  the  typographical  fashion  of  the 
day."  (Bacon's  Literary  Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  5.)  The  Defoe  articles 
are  a  century  later  in  date,  let  it  be  remembered. 

^  See  ch.  13  of  Book  2  of  the  De  Augmentis,  where  Bacon  says 
that  "we  shall  take  no  particular  notice  of  satire,  elegy,  epigram, 
ode,  etc.,  but  turn  them  over  to  philosophy  and  the  arts  of  speech," 
etc.  And  see  these  distinct  subjects,  and  in  this  order,  handled  in 
Addison,  vol.  vi.,  pp.  587-605. 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  455 

in  my  travels,  the  bulk  of  the  people  consist  in  a  manner 
wholly  of  discoverers,  witnesses,  informers,  accusers, 
prosecutors,  evidences,  swearers,  together  with  their  sev- 
eral subservient  and  subaltern  instruments,  all  under  the 
colours,  the  conduct,  and  the  pay  of  ministers  of  state,  and 
their  deputies.  The  plots,  in  that  kingdom,  are  usually 
the  workmanship  of  those  persons  who  desire  to  raise 
their  own  characters  of  profound  politicians  ;  to  restore 
new  vigor  to  a  crazy  administration  ;  to  stifle  or  divert 
general  discontents  ;  to  fill  their  coffers  with  forfeitures  ; 
and  raise  or  sink  the  opinion  of  public  credit,  as  either 
shall  best  answer  their  private  advantage.  It  is  first 
agreed  and  settled  among  them,  what  suspected  persons 
shall  be  accused  of  a  plot  ;  then,  effectual  care  is  taken  to 
secure  all  their  letters  and  papers,  and  put'  the  owners  in 
chains.  These  papers  are  delivered  to  a  set  of  artists, 
very  dextrous  in  finding  out  the  mysterious  meanings  of 
words,  syllables,  and  letters. 

"  For  instance,  they  can  discover  a  close-stool,'  to  sig- 
nify a  privy-council  ;  a  flock  of  geese,  a  senate  ;  a  lame 
dog,  an  invader  ;  the  phigue,  a  standing  army  ;  a  beetle, 
a  prime  minister  ;  the  gout,  a  high  priest  ;  a  gibbet,  a 
secretary  of  state  ;  a  chamber-pot,  a  committee  of  gran- 
dees ;  a  sieve,  a  court  lady  ;  a  broom,*  a  revolution  ;  a 
mouse-trap,^  an  employment  ;  a  bottomless  pit,  a  treasury  ; 

'  In  All's  Well  that  Ends  Well,  Act  v.,  sc.  2,  p.  373,  we  have  : 
"  Par.  Pray  you,  sir,  deliver  me  this  paper. 

Glo.  Foil  !  pr'ythee,  stand  away  :  a  paper  from  fortune's  close- 
stool  to  give  to  a  nobleman  !     Look  here  he  comes  himself." 
And  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost.  Act  v.,  sc.  2,  p.  460,  we  have  : 

"  You  will  be  scrap'd  out  of  the  painted  cloth  for  this  :  your  lion, 
that  holds  his  poll-ax  sitting  on  a  close  stool,  will  be  given  to  Ajax  : 
he  will  be  the  ninth  Worthy."  Concerning  the  use  of  the  word 
"  ring"  in  this  play,  see  Addison,  vol.  ii.,  p.  181  ;  and  as  to  the 
"  drum,"  see  p.  115.  Note  also  the  use  of  the  word  "  drum"  in  Ban- 
yan's Holy  War. 

•  '  In  Midsummer-Night's  Dream,  Act  v.,  sc.  2,  p.  350,  we  have  : 
"  I  am  sent  with  broom,  before, 
To  sweep  the  dust  behind  the  door." 
Let  these  different  points  be  looked  for  in  the  plays. 
^  In  Hamlet,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  291,  we  have  : 

' '  King.  What  do  you  call  the  play  ? 
Ham.  The  mousetrap. " 
And  in  the  same  scene  p.  296,  we  have  : 


456  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

a  sink,  a  court ;  a  cap  and  bells,'  a  favorite  ;  a  broken 
reed,^  a  court  of  justice  ;  an  empty  tun,  a  general  ;  a  run- 
ning sore,  the  administration. 

"  When  this  method  fails,  they  have  two  others  more 
effectual,  which  the  learned  among  them  call  acrostics 
and  anagrams.'  First,  they  can  decipher  all  initial  letters 
into  political  meanings.  Thus,  N,  shall  signify  a  plot  ; 
B,  a  regiment  of  horse  ;  L,  a  fleet  at  sea  ;  or,  secondly,  by 
transposing  the  letters  of  the  alphabet  in  any  suspected 
paper,  they  can  lay  open  the  deepest  designs  of  a  discon- 
tented party.  So,  for  example,  if  I  should  say  in  a  letter 
to  a  friend  '  Our  brother  Tom  has  just  got  the  piles,'  a 
skilful  decipherer  would  discover,  that  the  same  letters 
which  compose  that  sentence  may  be  analyzed  into  the 

following  words,  '  Resist.  a  plot  is  brought  home 

the  tour.'     And  this  is  the  anagramatic  method. 

"  The  professor  made  me  great  acknowledgments  for 
communicating  these  observations,  and  promised  to  make 
honorable  mention  of  me  in  his  treatise."* 

The  next  Baconian  actor  which  we  introduce  upon  the 
point  under  review  is  Joseph  Addison,  and  from  vol.  iii. 
of  the  works  attributed  to  him,  p.  103,  we  quote  as  fol- 
lows : 

"  Designing  this  day's  work  for  a  dissertation  upon  the 
two  extremities  of  my  })aper,  and  having  already  dis- 
patched my  motto,  I  shall,  in  the  next  place,  discourse 


"  Ham.  .Sir,  I  lack  advancement." 

'  As  to  "  cap  and  bells,"  please  see  Addison,  vol.  ii. ,  p.  326. 

2  Bacon  at  his  fall  speaks  of  himself  as  a  broken  reed. 

*  Please  see  the  six  articles  on  acrostics  and  anagrams  in  Addison, 
vol.  ii.,  pp.  342-07.  On  p.  366  we  have:  "The  genius  of  Heroic 
Poetry  appeared  with  a  sword  in  her  hand  and  a  laurel  on  her  head. 
Tragedy  was  crowned  with  cypress,  and  covered  with  robes  dipped 
in  blood.  Satire  had  smiles  in  her  look,  and  a  dagger  under  her 
garment.  Rhetoric  was  known  by  her  thunderbolt  ;  and  Comedy, 
by  her  mask.  A-fter  several  other  figures,  Epigram  marched  up  in 
the  rear,  who  had  been  posted  there  at  tlie  beginning  of  the  expedi- 
tion, that  he  might  not  revolt  to  the  enemy,  whom  lie  was  suspected 
to  favor  in  his  heart."     And  see  vol.  iv..  pp.  105-10. 

■*  This  quotation  is  taken  from  the  cheap  though  admirable  edition 
of  Gulliver's  Travels  in  the  Gladstone  series,  of  which  we  have  made 
use.  Note,  please,  the  introductory  matter  to  this  edition  as  to  the 
great  caution  originally  displayed  in  giving  the  work,  though  anony- 
mous, to  the  public. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  457 

upon  those  single  capital  letters  which  are  placed  at  the 
end  of  it,  and  which  have  afforded  great  matter  of  specu- 
lation to  the  curious.  I  have  heard  various  conjectures 
upon  this  subject.  Some  tell  us,  that  C  is  the  mark  of 
those  papers  that  are  written  by  the  Clergyman,  though 
others  ascribe  them  to  the  Club  in  general.  That  the 
papers  marked  with  R,  were  written  by  my  friend  Sir 
Koger.  That  L  signifies  the  Lawyer,  whom  I  have  de- 
scribed in  my  Speculation  ;  and  that  T  stands  for  the 
Trader  or  Merchant ;  but  the  letter  X,  which  is  placed  at 
the  end  of  some  few  of  my  papers,  is  that  which  has 
puzzled  the  whole  town,'  as  they  cannot  think  of  any 
name  which  begins  with  that  letter,  except  Xenophon  and 
Xerxes,  who  can  neither  of  them  be  supposed  to  have  had 
any  hand  in  these  speculations.''' 

'  The  subjects  handled  in  these  papers  are  chiefly  such  as  to  be  of 
interest  at  any  historic  period,  and  they  are  studiously  and  adroitly 
handled  to  meet  this  necessity.  And  though  there  is  occasionally  an 
interpolation,  still  let  the  reader  in  the  scope  of  the  work  have  au  eye 
to  this  thought.  See  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  pp.  435-38.  And  in  sec.  1  of 
the  discourse  on  the  "Mechanical  Operation  of  the  Spirit,"  by 
Swift,  we  have  :  "  In  all  my  writings  I  have  had  constant  regard  to 
this  great  end,  not  to  suit  and  apply  them  to  particular  occasions  and 
circumstances  of  time,  of  place,  or  of  person,  but  calculate  them  for 
universal  nature  and  mankind  in  general."  Bacon  said  he  did  not 
wish  his  writings  to  court  the  present  time,  etc.  See  p.  96.  The 
use  of  the  word  "  town"  throughout  the  plays.  The  Pilgrim's  Prog- 
ress, and  Buuyan's  Holy  War,  instead  of  any  mention  of  local- 
ity, is  one  of  the  noticeable  earmarks  in  the  direction  indicated.  See 
in  this  connection  the  subject  of  the  Town  of  Vanity  Fair  in  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  161,  and  see  p.  91,  note  2. 

^  The  five  anonymous  actors  are  represented  as  sending  in  their 
speculations  for  publication  to  Bickerstaff,  the  ruling  spirit.  lu 
Addison,  vol.  vi.,  p.  687,  it  is  said:  "Isaac  Bickerstaff,  Esq., 
Astrologer,  was  an  imaginary  person,  almost  as  well  known  in  that 
age  as  Mr.  Paul  Pry  or  Mr.  Samuel  Pickwick  in  ours.  Swift  had 
assumed  the  name  of  Bickerstaff  in  a  satirical  pamphlet  against 
Partridge,  the  maker  of  almanacks."  Promus.  111.  (Astrology  is 
true,  but  the  astrologer  is  not  to  be  found.)  As  to  Bickerstaff  and  these 
characters,  see  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  pp.  461-65,  and  vol.  iv.,  pp.  67-71 
and  172-76.  The  article  on  p.  172  opens  thus  :  "  The  first  who 
undertook  to  instruct  the  world  in  single  papers  was  Isaac  Bicker- 
staff of  famous  memory.  A  man  nearly  related  to  the  family  of 
Ironsides.  We  have  often  smoked  a  pipe  together,  for  I  was  so 
much  in  his  books,  that  at  his  decease  he  left  me  a  silver  standish, 
a  pair  of  spectacles,  and  the  lamp  by  which  he  used  to  write  his 
lucubrations."  Here  we  have  a  distinct  Baconian  expression,  "  much 
in  his  books."     Bacon  says  :  "  For  the  Papists,  it  is  not  unknown  to 


458  THREAD    OF   THE   LABYRINTH. 

'*  In  answer  to  these  inquisitive  gentlemen,  who  have 
many  of  them  made  inquiries  of  me  by  letter,  I  must  tell 
them  the  reply  of  an  ancient  philosopher,  who  carried 
something  hidden  under  his  cloak.  A  certain  acquaintance 
desiring  him  to  let  him  know  what  it  was  lie  covered  so 
carefully,  '  I  cover  it  (says  he)  on  purpose  that  you  shall 
not  know.'  *  I  have  made  use  of  these  obscure  marks  for 
the  same  purpose.  They  are,  perhaps,  little  amulets  or 
charms  to  preserve  the  paper  against  the  fascination  or 
malice  of  evil  eyes  ;"  for  which  reason  I  would  not  have 
my  reader  surprised,  if  hereafter  he  sees  any  of  my  papers 
marked  with  a  Q,  a  Z,  a  Y,  an  &c.,  or  with  the  word 
Abracadabra.* 

"  I  shall,  however,  so  far  explain  myself  to  the  reader, 
as  to  let  him  know  that  the  letters  0,  L,  and  X,  are  caba- 
listical,  and  carry  more  in  them  than  it  is  proper  for  the 
world  to  be  acquainted  with.  Those  who  are  versed  in 
the  philosophy  of  Pythagoras,"  and  swear  by  the  Tetracth- 
tys,  that  is,  the  number  four,  will  know  very  well  that 
the  number  ten,  which  is  signified  by  the  letter  X  (and 
which  has  so  much  perplexed  the  town),  has  in  it  many 
particular  powers  ;  that  it  is  called  by  Platonic  writers 
the  complete  number  ;  that  one,   two,   three,  and   four, 

your  Grace  that  you  are  not  at  this  time  mucli  in  their  books." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  449.) 

'  In  this  connection  see  the  opening  page  of  the  Anatomy  of 
Melancholy. 

"^  In  this  way  Bacon  kept  off  envy  from  his  work,  and  by  high 
nonsense  gave  protection  to  the  actors  of  his  great  project. 

=*  In  Defoe's  "  History  of  the  Plague,"  Bohn  ed.,  p.  26,  rnay  be 
seen  this  word  arranged  into  a  figure,  as  an  amulet  against  the 
plague.  Bacon's  views  as  to  Pythagoras  will  be  found  to  be  the 
views  spread  into  all  of  these  writings.  See  Bacon's  introduction  to 
"  Century  X."  of  his  "  Natural  Historv."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv., 
p.  640.)  In  Twelfth  Night,  Act  iv.,  sc.  2,  p.  430,  we  have  : 
"  Clo.  What  is  the  opinion  of  Pythagoras  concerning  wild-fowl  ? 

3Ial.  That  the  soul  of  our  grandam  might  haply  inhabit  a  bird. 

Clo.  What  thinkest  thou  of  his  opinion  ? 

Mnl.  I  think  nobly  of  the  soul,  and  no  way  approve  his  opinion." 

^  Pythagoras  is  in  many  places  referred  to  in  the  plays,  and  so 
Bacon  in  many  places  makes  mention  of  Pythagorean  diet.  And 
articles  of  diet  are  used  as  covers  in  the  plays.  Again  Bacon  says  : 
"  And  hence  the  ancient  times  are  full  of  all  kinds  of  fables,  para- 
bles, enigmas,  and  similitudes  ;  as  may  appear  by  the  numbers  of 
Pythagoras,  the  enigmas  of  Sphinx,  the  fables  of  ^sop,  and  the 
like."    (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  317.)    See  p.  224. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYKINTH.  459 

pat  together,  make  up  the  number  ten  ;  and  that  ten  is 
all.'  But  these  are  not  mysteries  for  ordinary  readers  to 
be  let  into.  A  man  must  have  spent  many  years  in  hard 
study  before  he  can  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  them. 

"  We  had  a  rabbinical  divine  in  England,  who  was 
chaplain  to  the  Earl  of  Essex  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time, 
that  had.  an  admirable  head  for  secrets  of  this  nature. 
Upon  his  taking  the  doctor  of  divinity's  degree,  he 
preached  before  the  University  of  Cambridge,  upon  the 
tirst  verse  of  the  first  chapter  of  the  first  book  of  Chroni- 
cles, in  which  (says  he)  you  will  see  the  three  following 
words, 

Adam,  Sheth,  Enosh. 

"  He  divided  this  short  text  into  many  parts,  and  dis- 
covering several  mysteries  in  each  word,  made  a  most 
learned  and  elaborate  discourse.  The  name  of  this  pro- 
found preacher  was  Doctor  Alabaster,  of  whom  the  reader 

'  Promus.  852.  {The  obscure  numbers  of  Plato.  Plato  sometimes 
obscured  his  philosophy  with  the  numbers  of  Pythagoras,  who  re- 
duced nearly  all  philosophy  to  numbers.)  Of  Pythagoras  Bacon 
says  :  "  Yet  his  opinion  that  the  world  consists  of  numbers  may  be 
so  understood  as  to  penetrate  to  the  principles  of  nature.  For  there 
are  two  opinions,  nor  can  there  be  more,  with  respect  to  atoms  or 
the  seeds  of  things  ;  the  one  that  of  Democritus,  which  attributed 
to  atoms  inequality  and  configuration,  and  by  configuration  position  ; 
the  other  perhaps  that  of  Pythagoras,  which  asserted  that  they  were 
altogetlier  equal  and  similar.  For  he  who  assigns  equality  to  atoms 
necessarily  places  all  things  in  numbers  ;  but  he  who  allows  other 
attributes  has  the  benefit  of  the  primitive  natures  of  separate  atoms, 
besides  the  numbers  or  proportions  of  their  conjunctions."  See 
Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  422.  This  is  an  all-important  point  in  the 
Baconian  philosophy,  and  Bacon  in  part  illustrates  it  in  the  treat- 
ment of  colors.  He  says  :  "  But  as  we  intend  not  now  to  reveal,  so 
we  are  circumspect  not  to  mislead  ;  and  therefore  (this  warning 
being  given)  returning  to  our  purpose  in  hand,  we  admit  the  sixth 
direction  to  be,  that  all  bodies  or  parts  of  bodies  which  are  unequal 
equally,  that  is  in  a  simple  proportion,  do  represent  whiteness  ;  we 
will  explain  this,  though  we  induce  it  not.  It  is  then  to  be  under- 
stood, that  absolute  equality  produceth  transparency,  inequality  in 
simple  order  or  proportion  produces  whiteness,  inequality  in  com- 
pound or  respective  order  or  proportion  produceth  all  other  colours, 
and  absolute  and  orderless  inequality  produceth  blackness  ;  which 
diversity,  if  so  gross  a  demonstration  be  needful,  may  be  signified 
by  four  tables  :  a  black,  a  checker,  a  fret,  and  a  medley  ;  whereof 
the  fret  is  evident  to  admit  of  great  variety."  See  this  point,  Phil. 
Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  237.  Let  the  reader  linger  somewhat'  here. 
With  Bacon,  transparency  is  nudity.     See  p.  42,  note  1. 


460  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

may  find  a  more  particular  account  in  Doctor  Fuller's 
book  of  English  Worthies.  This  instance  will,  I  hope, 
convince  my  readers,  that  there  may  be  a  great  deal  of  fine 
writing  in  the  capital  letters  which  bring  up  the  rear  of 
my  paper,  and  give  them  some  satisfaction  in  that  particu- 
lar. But  as  for  the  full  explication  of  these  matters,  I 
must  refer  them  to  time,  which  discovers  all  things." 

Let  what  Bacon  in  his  Addison  says  of  Homer,  at  p.  71, 
be  here  called  into  relation  with  the  ending  of  Book  1  of 
the  De  Augraentis. 

We  would  likewise  have  the  reader  note  as  we  go  the 
further  circumstance  in  the  proofs,  though  without  stress 
upon  it,  that  many  of  the  newly  discovered  Defoe  papers 
have  names  appended  to  them  of  like  signification  with 
those  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  ;  as,  Mr.  Eminent,  Frank 
Faithful,  Theophilus  Love  Wit,  Christopher  Careful, 
Jeremiah  Dry  Koots,  Tom  Turbulent,  Sir  Timothy  Caution, 
Anthony  Quiet,  Jonathan  Problematic,  Jack  Indifferent, 
Anthony  Antiplot,  Able  Peaceable,  Anthony  Broadheart, 
The  New  Convert,  etc. 

Others,  ag.iin,  have  appended  to  them  the  names  of 
Philo,  Democritus,  Diogenes,  Simpronicus,  Quinquim- 
jjalix,  Libertatas,  Nicety,  Sincerity,  Enigma,  Ancient, 
Modern,  All-Hide,  Chesapeake,  Theo,  Anti-Italic,  Thunder 
Bolt,  Boatswain  Trinkolo,  etc.  ;  while  others  are  either 
unsubscribed  or  have  appended  to  them  mere  initials.' 

'  And  some  few  of  the  Addison  articles  are  thus  subscribed,  as 
John  Thrifty,  Nicholas  Humdrum,  Leonora,  Will  Honej'comb, 
Eobiu  Good-Fellow,  Martha  Tempest,  etc.  And  occasionally  in  the 
plays  we  have  a  like  personification  of  qualities  ;  and  so  iu  Much 
Ado  About  Nothing,  Act  v.,  sc.  1,  p.  289,  we  have  : 

"  Dogb.  Moreover,  sir,  which,  indeed,  is  not  under  white  and 
black,  this  plaintiff  here,  the  offender,  did  call  me  ass  :  I  beseech 
you,  let  it  be  remember'd  in  his  punishment.  And,  also,  the  watch 
heard  them  talk  of  one  Deformed  :  they  say,  he  wears  a  key  in  his 
ear,  and  a  lock  hanging  by  it  ;  and  borrows  money  in  God's  name  ; 
the  which  he  hath  us'd  so  long,  and  never  paid,  that  now  men 
grow  hardhearted,  and  will  lend  nothing  for  God's  sake  :  Pray 
you,  examine  him  upon  that  point." 

Concerning  the  above  mentioned  "Robin  Good-Fellow" — that  is. 
Bacon's  friend,  Sir  Faulke  Gi'evill — he,  in  one  of  his  Apophthegms, 
says  :  "  Sir  Faulke  Grevill  had  much  and  private  access  to  Queen 
Elizabeth,  which  he  used  honorably,  and  did  many  men  good  ;  yet 
he  would  say  merrily  of  himself  ;  That  he  was  like  Robin  Goodfellmo  ; 
For   when    the  maids   spilt   the  milkpans,  or  kept  any  racket,  they 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYKIi^TH.  461 

As  the  word  "  Christian"  designates  the  chief  character 
in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  so  throughout  all  of  the  writ- 
ings under  review,  Shakespeare  included,  do  we  ask  atten- 
tion to  the  distinctive  use  of  that  word  in  preference  to 
any  of  synonymous  or  similar  import.  In  the  first  and 
second  of  the  six  dialogues  by  Defoe  on  Christian  conver- 
sation, the  disputants  are  distinguished  as  Confirmed 
Christian,  Doubting  Christian,     (Hazlitt's  Defoe,  vol.  iii.) 

Bacon  would  not  now  permit  his  wounded  name  to  de- 
tract from  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  this  crowning  seventh 
or  Sabbath-day  work  for  the  good  of  men  ;  and  so,  doubt- 
less, sought  for  it  and  for  his  Bunyan's  Holy  War  another 
channel,'  As  to  these  works,  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  was 
evidently  produced  last,  as  will  appear  in  the  author's 
apology  for  the  book.  And  on  p.  57  of  the  work  see  the 
verses  that  were  made  to  accompany  the  Holy  War,  They 
are  designed  to  show  and  to  make  certain  tliat  both  works 
have  the  same  author,  but  who  still  would  be  cloaked. 
And  at  the  end  of  the  poem  the  reason  is  stated  thus  : 

"  I  write  not  this  of  any  ostentation  ; 
Nor  'cause  I  seek  of  men  their  commendation  : 
I  do  it  to  keep  tliem  from  such  surmise. 
As  tempt  them  will  my  name  to  scandalize. 
Witness  my  name  ;  if  anagram'd  to  thee, 
The  letters  make  Nu  houy  in  a  B."  '-^ 

icould  lay  it  upon  Robin ;  So  what  tales  the  ladies  about  the  Queen 
told  her,  or  other  bad  offices  that  they  did,  they  toould put  it  upon  him." 
(Bacon's  Literary  Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  158.)  See  the  Addison  article, 
vol.  iii..  pp.  77-80. 

1  "  Either  our  history  shall,  with  full  mouth. 
Speak  freely  of  our  acts  ;  or  else  our  grave. 
Like  Turkish  mute,  shall  have  a  tongueless  mouth. 
Not  worshipp'd  with  a  waxen  epitaph." 

— Henry  V  ,  Act  i.,  so.  2,  p.  473. 
'■  Promus,  927.     (They  will  eat  my  bees  and  make  my  honey.) 
The  introductory  poem  to  the  Holy  War  ends  thus  : 
"  Nor  do  thou  go  to  work  without  my  Key, 
(In  mysteries  men  soon  do  loose  their  way) 
And  also  turn  it  right  if  thou  wouldst  know 
My  riddle,  and  wouldst  with  my  heifer  plow, 
It  lies  there  in  the  window,  fare  thee  well. 
My  next  may  be  to  ring  thy  Passing-Bell." 

A  few  lines  earlier  in  the  poem  we  have  the  substance  of  Bacon's 
expression,  "But  I  hold  thee  too  long  in  the  porch,"  The  lines 
are  in  these  words  : 


462  THREAD    OF   THE   LABYRINTH. 

All  of  the  newly  discovered  Defoe  articles  by  Lee  are 
taken  from  journals  in  which  Defoe  is  said  to  have  been 
interested  between  1716  and  1729.  They  were  found 
chiefly,  as  Mr.  Lee  tells  us,  in  what  was  known  as  Apple- 
dee' s  Journal.  He  says  :  "  His  first  article  in  Applebee's 
Journal  was  published  on  the  25th  of  June  1720,  which 
was  the  day  following  that  on  which  the  Act  of  Parlia- 
ment and  Koyal  Proclamation,  for  the  instant  suppression 
of  all  farther  Babbling  Schemes,  had  come  into  operation. 
The  subject  he  adopted  was  the  strange  and  sudden  alter- 
ations produced  by  the  Act  in  Exchange  Alley,  and  the 
streets,  taverUvS,  and  coffee-houses,  near  that  centre  of  re- 
cent '  Whimsical  Transactions.'  He  describes  these 
changes  in  his  happiest  and  most  playful  manner,  signing 
his  communication  '  Oliver  Oldway.'  It  will  be  found  in 
its  place  among  his  writings  ;  and,  in  addition  to  the 
amusement  it  will  afford,  has  a  permanent  interest  as  part 
of  the  history  of  the  national  delusion.  Defoe  continued 
to  write  weekly  articles  in  Apj^Iebee^s  Journal  until  the 
12th  of  March  1726,  and  the  largest  portion  of  his  hitherto 
uncollected  writings  discovered  in  my  research,  have  been 
transcribed  from  its  pages."     (Lee,  vol.  i.,  p.  338.) 

Had  this  article  been  put  forth  a  century — that  is,  one 
hundred  years  earlier  by  Bacon  himself,  on  March  12th, 
it  would  have  been  issued  twenty- eight  days  prior  to  his 
reputed  death,  said  to  have  occurred  April  9th,  1626. 

Our  claim  therefore  is,  that  while  this  literature  was 
prepared  by  Sir  Francis  Bacon  for  a  future  historic 
period,  portions  of  it  distinctly  represent  the  struggles 
through  which  he  himself  passed  shortly  before  and  fol- 
lowing his  fall  ;  and  that  from  some  of  these  articles,  as 
scaffolding,  so  to  speak,  he  framed  his  great  allegorical 
play.  The  Tempest. 

We  therefore  proceed  to  give  place  to  a  series  of  articles 
from  the  mentioned  Defoe  papers,   which  we  regard  as 

"  But  T  have  too  long  held  thee  in  the  Porch, 
And  kept  thee  from  the  Sun-shiue  with  a  Torch." 

In  the  introduction  of  Bacon's  History  of  Life  and  Death  we  have  : 
"  To  inquire  however  concefning  the  last  steps  of  death  and  the 
final  extinction  of  life,  which  may  happen  so  many  ways  both  ex- 
ternal and  internal  (yet  all  which  meet  as  it  were  in  a  common  porch 
before  they  come  to  the  point  of  deatli),  is  in  my  judgment  pertinent 
to  this  inquiry  ;  but  I  reserve  it  till  the  end."      And  see  p.  58. 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  4G3 

bearing  in  the  direction  of  Bacon's  troubles  and  of  that 
great  phiy,  and  to  which  we  invite  the  most  careful  atten- 
tion, reminding  the  reader  that  ofttimes  a  case  seemingly 
hopeless  at  its  opening  reaches  the  irresistible  ere  its  close. 

Already  have  we  seen,  in  earlier  pages,  that  under  the 
reign  of  James  the  First,  and  in  1619,  strong  efforts  were 
being  made  by  Bacon  to  bring  about  a  retrenchment  in 
the  expenses  of  the  kingdom,  as  well  as  to  repel  and  beat 
back  tendencies,  not  merely  toward  Rome,  but  toward 
atheism  and  various  immoralities  ;  or,  as  stated  in  the 
play  of  The  Tempest,  the  flouting  and  scouting  element. 
His  interest  likewise  in  the  Bohemian  outbreak,  in  1618, 
which  was  the  beginning  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  has 
been  somewhat  called  under  review.  In  connection  with 
this  thought  we  introduce  an  article,  under  date  November 
29th,  1718,  Lee,  vol.  ii.,  p.  79,  and  which  is  as  follows  : 

''  W.  E.  P.  [Whitehall  Evening  Post],  Nov.  29.— 
To  the  Under  takers  of  the  Whitehall  Evening  Post.  Sirs, 
— The  liberty  you  give  to  inserting  Letters  in  your  Paper 
relating  to  the  affair  of  Spain,  whether  they  are  receiv'd 
from  other  hands,  or  are  the  product  of  your  Author's  in- 
vention, is  very  agreeable  to  many  of  your  Readers  ;  and 
I  believe  is  generally  so  to  all  those  who  have  right  notions 
of  the  Public  Affairs  of  Europe,  and  the  true  Interest  of 
Great  Britain  ;  especially  while  those  Letters  are  written 
with  good  sense  and  good  meaning,  and  appear,  as  they 
hitherto  seem,  to  be  calculated  for  the  giving  right  ideas 
and  just  conceptions  of  the  nature,  reason,  and  necessity 
of  the  approaching  War  with  Spain. 

"  But  why  does  not  your  Author,  who,  if  we  guess  at 
him  right,  is  well  enough  qualified  for  such  an  under- 
taking, enter  into  the  part  of  the  necessity  and  justice  of 
that  War,  which  is  apparent  from  our  Trading  circum- 
stances, and  from  the  situation  and  extent  of  our  com- 
merce.^ How  can  he  refrain  entering  into  some  of  those 
many  arguments  which  naturally  result  from  the  Hazard 
of  your  Trade  in  the  suppos'd  view  of  the  growing  power 
of  Spain  ? 

*'  If  I  mistake  not  your  Author,  I  have  heard  him  say 
he  would  be  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  retrieve  the  good 
opinion  of  his  Friends,  which  he  lost  by  being  drawn  into 
former  Follies.  Tell  him,  now  is  the  Time  for  him  to 
let  the  World  see,  that  whatever  he  might  be  formerly 


464  THREAD    OF    THE    LABYRINTH. 

biass'd  to  say  in  a  Case  which  he  conld  not  defend,  like  a 
Council  pleading  for  his  fee,  and  obliged  to  make  the  best 
of  a  bad  Cause  ;  yet  that  now  he  speaks  from  Inclination, 
and  has  a  Cause  that  must  go  along  with  his  Judgment, 
as  well  as  with  the  duty  of  an  Author. 

"  Tell  him,  it  is  expected  from  him,  he  should  show 
the  World  that  there  is  a  necessity  for  Great  Britain  to 
exert  herself  in  timely  preventing  the  growing  Exorbitance 
of  the  Spanish  Power,  or  to  give  up  from  this  moment  all 
her  Pretences  to  the  Trade  either  of  the  Mediterranean  or 
Mexican  Seas.  That  'tis  a  scandalous  mistake  for  him, 
or  any  one  else,  to  say  that  this  war  is  undertaken  to 
aggrandize  the  House  of  Austria,  and  to  mal<e  the  Em- 
peror the  Terror  of  Europe  :  But  that  it  is  undertaken 
to  prevent  Spain  making  herself  the  Terror  of  Great 
Britain,  by  ruining  our  Trade,  overthrowing  our  Colonies, 
and  destroying  the  liberty  of  that  Commerce,  by  which 
our  Manufactures  are  extended  abroad,  and  consequently 
are  su])ported  at  Home.  That  'tis  Nonsense  to  talk  of 
this  War  from  Religious  Amusements,  that  it  is  carried  on 
between  Popish  Powers,  who  we  ought  to  let  fight  with 
one  another  as  long  as  they  please,  and  look  on  with 
pleasure  to  see  them  dash  themsehes  to  pieces  one  against 
another,  that  the  Protestant  Powers  may  see  their  Enemies 
weaken'd,  and  their  own  strength  reserv'd  to  pull  them 
all  down  at  last,  and  buiy  them  in  the  Ruins  of  the  Whore 
of  Babylon,^  etc. 

"  When  Europe  is  engaged  in  a  Religious  War.  and  the 
question  is  only  stated  between  Protestants  and  Papists, 
these  Things  will  be  seasonable  enough,  and  we  shall 
hear  him  with  pleasure  upon  those  Heads.''  But  tell  him 
he  knows  well  enough  this  is  a  War  of  civil  Interest,  not 
Religious  :  This  is  a  War  in  which  the  Question  is.  How 
the  Right  of  Princes,  the  Intercourse  of  Nations,  and  the 
Peace,  Prosperity,  and  Trade  of  the  World  shall  be  pre- 
serv'd  ;  how  the  ambition  of  voracious  and  unreasonable 
Men,  vested  with  Power,  and  Gaping  for  more  than  their 

'  In  the  play  of  Henry  V.,  Act  ii.,  sc.  3,  p.  498,  we  have  : 

"  Quick.  A'  did  in  some  sort,  indeed,  handle  women  ;    but  then 

he  was  rheumatic  ;  and  talk'd  of  the  whore  of  Babylon." 
'^  Bacon's  fears  as  to  the  Spanish  monarcliy  have  been  touched 

upon  in  earlier  pages.    And  see  p.  222. 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYEINTH.  4C5 

share,  shall  be  restrain' d  ;  and  the  just  Bounds  and 
Limits  of  Great  ones'  be  on  all  sides  preserv'd. 

"  Tell  him  that  it  is  a  Malicious  mistake  to  say,  that 
Great  Britain  is  an  Auxiliary  in  this  War  ;  we  are  really 
Principals  ;  our  Concern  in  it  is  infinitely  more  than  tluib 
of  the  Emperor,  or  of  the  Princes  of  Italy  :  It  is  not  of  a 
thousandth  part  of  the  consequence  to  the  House  of  Aus- 
tria who  possesses  the  Kingdom  of  Sicily,  the  Harbour  of 
Cagliari,  the  Vare  of  Messina,  or  the  Gulf  of  Naples,  as  it 
is  to  lis.  The  Emperor  would  be  Emperor,  and  a  most 
potent  powerful  Prince,  though  he  had  not  a  Foot  of 
Ground  in  Italy,  and  was  so  when  he  had  very  little  there  ; 
but  the  Case  differs  quite  with  us,  and  this  I  say  your 
Author  knows. 

"  He  knows  that  as  Spain  was  40  years  ago  a.vsapine, 
and  indolent,  an  unmanaged  Government,  their  King 
enjoy' d  the  Advantages  of  his  possessing  Naples  and 
Sicily  without  much  of  our  Concern  ;  but  the  Spaniards 
now  are  quite  another  Nation  than  Spain  then  could  be 
said  to  be.2  That  if  the  present  King  sets  up  for  a  Supe- 
riority of  his  Marine  Power,  and  resolves  to  have  a  stated 
Force  of  80  Men-of-War  of  the  Line  of  Battle  in  his  Fleets, 
and  if  Spain  resolves  to  improve  all  the  Advantages  that 
such  a  Superiority  at  Sea  will  give  them,  I  say,  he  knows  ; 
for  every  man  of  Common  Sense  must  hnoiv,  that  Sicily, 

'  The  expression  "  gi'eat  ones"  is  Baconian  ;  and  note  it  in  the 
plays.  In  Bacon's  Essay  entitled  "Of  Envy,"  we  have:  "And 
therefore  it  is  a  bridle  to  great  ones,  to  keep  them  within  bounds." 
See  the  expres.sion  also  in  his  Essay  entitled  "  Of  Seditions  and 
Troubles."  And  in  his  Essay  entitled  "Of  Ambition,"  we  have: 
"  It  is  counted  by  some  a  weakness  in  Princes  to  have  favorites  ;  but 
it  is  of  all  others  the  best  remedy  against  ambitious  great  ones." 
And  in  Hamlet,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  281,  we  have  : 

"  King.  It  shall  be  so  : 

Madness  in  great  ones  must  not  un watch 'd  go." 

In  Twelfth  Night,  Act  i.,  sc.  2,  p.  353,  we  have  : 

"  And  then  'twas  fresh  in  murmur  (as  you  know, 
What  great  ones  do  the  less  will  prattle  of) 
That  he  did  seek  the  love  of  fair  Olivia." 

'  See  the  subject  of  Naples  in  the  play  of  The  Tempest.  Bacon 
says  :  "  I  see  once  in  thirty  or  forty  years  cometh  a  Pope,  that  cast- 
eth  his  eye  upon  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  to  recover  it  to  the  church  ; 
as  it  was  in  the  minds  of  Julius  2,  Paulus  4,  and  Zistus  5."  See  this 
article,  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  500. 


466  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

in  such  a  hand,  would  be  like  a  Chain  drawn  across  the 
Mouth  of  the  Levant  Seas,  which  without  their  leave  no 
Ship  could  pass  ;  or  like  the  Castle  of  Elseneur  in  the 
Sound,  that  locks  up  the  Trade  of  the  Baltick,  and  makes 
the  most  powerful  Nations  of  Europe  pay  Tribute  to  the 
weakest  of  Europe's  monarchs,  the  King  of  Denmark.' 

"  Here  is  a  Field  for  him  to  give  his  most  Extended 
Thoughts  their  due  Length  :  It  is  impossible  to  answer 
what  may  be  said  on  this  Subject,  or  to  confute  the  Rea- 
sons which  naturally  occur  to  prove,  that  Great  Britain 
cannot  acquiesce  in  letting  Spain  possess  Sicily,  without 
giving  up  her  Trade  to  Turkey,  and  the  Gulf  of  Venice, 
on  which  the  consumption  of  her  Manufactures  so  much 
depends  ;  her  Trade  to  Zant  for  Currants,  to  Gallipoli  for 
Oyl,  to  Messina  and  Naples  for  Silk,  and  in  a  Word,  with- 
out effectually  ruining  her  Italian  Trade,  viz.,  her  Trade  to 
Genoa,  Leghorn,  etc.,  as  also  indeed  her  whole  Commerce 
of  the  Mediterranean. 

"  Are  all  these  Arguments  asleep  with  him,  that  he  says 
nothing  to  these  Things?  Send  him  then  to  our  West 
Indian  Islands,  and  bid  him  tell  us  from  thence,  how 
long  we  shall  be  able  to  protect  our  Settlements  there,  and 
carry  on  our  Navigation  and  Commerce  with  our  own 
People  at  Jamaica,  Barbadoes,  etc.,  if  the  Naval  strength 
of  Spain  be  suffer'd  to  grow  to  such  an  immoderate  and 
monstrous  Pitch,  as  it  is  known  the  ambition  of  the 
Spanish  Ministry  now  aim  at. 

"  Let  us  see  your  Author  exert  himself  now  in  so  just  a 
Cause  as  this,  and  tell  him  he  shall  be  forgiven  all  his 
former  wrong  steps  ;  and  honest  men  will  begin  to  receive 
him  again,  and  restore  him  to  their  good  opinion,  as  a 

'  Already  in  our  remarks  upon  the  play  of  Hamlet,  pp.  94-96, 
have  we  called  attention  to  Bacon's  fears  touching  the  safety  of 
England  and  her  Protestantism  in  connection  with  trade,  should  the 
mouth  of  the  Baltic  Sea  fall  to  the  control  of  the  Catholic  powers. 
And  for  like  reason  it  was  that  later  he  was  so  interested  in  Sicily 
and  Naples.  Let  the  reader  look  at  these  geographic  points.  These 
points  Bacon  longed  to  see  under  control  of  the  Protestant  powers. 
As  to  Tunis  and  Africa,  mentioned  in  the  play  of  The  Tempest, 
see  p.  338,  and  note  2,  p.  337.  In  his  article  on  the  Holy  War  Bacon 
as  to  Algiers  says:  "In  the  piratical  war  which  was  achieved  by 
Pompey  the  Great,  and  was  his  truest  and  greatest  glory,  the  pirates 
had  some  cities,  sundry  poits,  and  a  great  part  of  the  province  of 
Cilicia  ;  and  the  pirates  now  being,  have  a  receptacle  and  mansion  in 
Algiers." 


THREAD   OP  THE   LABYRINTH.  467 

man  return' d  to  himself,  and  inclined  to  make  us  (to  use 
his  own  words)  L' Amende  lionorable  for  what  is  past. 
Your  Friend,  etc.,  Spanish." 

Here  we  have  another  touch  upon  relations  involved  in 
the  play  of  Hamlet,  we  think,  which  concerns  not  only 
philosophy,  but  the  Eeformed  faith  and  empire.  In  Act 
ii.,  sc.  2,  following  the  expression  "for  look,  where  my 
abridgment  comes,"  observe  as  bearing  upon  Bacon's 
purposes  the  speech  touching  Eneas'  tale  to  Dido,'  the 
mention  of  "  Pyrrhus,"  of  "the  ominous  horse,"  of 
"  Priam."  Bacon  in  Promus  Note  20  says  :  (Enough  has 
been  done  for  my  country  and  Priam).  Jn  this  connection 
we  from  Bloss's  Ancient  History,  p.  358,  quote  as  fol- 
lows : 

"  First  Punic  War.— We  come  now  to  consider  Rome  in 
a  most  interesting  period  of  her  history  ;  when,  venturiug 
beyond  the  bounds  of  Italy,  she  stretched  her  arms  across 
the  sea,  and  began  the  conquest  of  other  lands.  About 
100  years  before  the  foundation  of  Eome,  Dido,  sister  of 
Pygmalion,  King  of  Tyre,  tied  from  the  tyranny  of  her 
brother,  with  a  select  band  of  followers,  and  landed  in 
Africa,  near  the  spot  where  Tunis  now  stands.  There  a 
city  was  founded,  which  extended  its  commerce  along  the 
shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  became  one  of  the  richest 
and  most  powerful  cities  in  the  world.  Carthage  also 
possessed,  in  the  opinion  of  Aristotle,  one  of  the  most 
perfect  governments  of  antiquity.  At  the  time  of  the 
Punic  wars  she  had  under  her  dominion  300  of  the  smaller 
cities  of  Africa,  with  their  territories.  The  expulsion  of 
Pyrrhus  from  Italy— the  subjugation  of  the  Samnites  and 
Tarentines — had  made  the  Romans  masters  of  the  garden 
of  Europe.  Sicily  was  their  granary,  but,  not  content 
with  the  supplies  of  corn  annually  received,  they  secretly 
desired  to  possess  the  island  itself,  the  more,  perhaps, 
because  Carthage  claimed  some  of  its  cities,  and  sent  her 
fleets  unquestioned  into  the  bay  of  Tarentum  and  up  the 
Adriatic."  ^ 

As  Troy,*  the  land  of    Priam,  was  won   through    the 
'  As  to  Dido,  see  p.  338,  note  2. 

'  Promus,  776.     (We  Trojans  were— i.e.,  have  now  ceased  to  be  • 
as  "Tro.ia  fuit,"  Troy  was.)    Promus,  760.     (By  making  trial  the 
Greeks  arrived  at  Troy.     Try,  and  you  will  succeed.)    Promus,  35 
(Men  sin  within  the  walls  of  Troy  as  well  as  outside  of  them.)     As  to 
the  walls  of  the  soul  see  p.  353,  note  2,  and  p.  374,  note  2. 


46S  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

wooden  horse  of  the  Greeks,  so  did  Bacon  stuff  the  carcass 
of  their  mythology  with  material  that  shoukl  win  it  back. 
In  his  notes  made  in  1608  we  have  :  "  Discussing  scorn- 
fully of  the  philosophy  of  the  Grajcians  w"'  some  better 
respect  to  y*  Aegiptians,  Persians,  Caldes,  and  the  utmost 
antiquity  and  the  mysteries  of  the  poets."  (Bacon's  Let- 
ters, vol.  iv.,  b.  64.)  Such  a  literary  record  as  Bacon  has 
made  has  never  been  equalled. 

We  next  introduce  two  articles  from  what  is  called  the 
Miranda  correspondence,  and  which  have  subtle  relations, 
and  concern,  we  think,  the  Miranda  of  The  Tem- 
pest. The  first  bears  date  March  21st,  1719,  and  the 
other  May  27th,  1721.  (Lee,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  Ill  and  382.) 
They  are,  we  think,  subtle  satires  touching  Prince  Charles, 
and  are  as  follows  : 

"  3f.  J.,  March  21. — Mr.  Mist  makes  no  Question  but 
that  everybody  will  grant  to  him  that  the  Ladies'  Affairs 
are  of  much  greater  Value  than  those  of  Government, 
Kings,  Emperors,  and  such  Trifles  ;  and  that  Matters  of 
Love  are  of  infinitely  more  consequence  than  Matters  of 
State  ;  so  he  hopes  he  need  give  no  other  Reason  why  he 
has  adjourned  private  Things,  such  as  long  Discourses — 
upon  the  Dangers  of  the  Nation  from  a  foreign  Invasion  ; 
• — upon  the  great  Advantages  of  a  Protestant  Wind,  which 
blows  so  exactly  for  our  safety,  as  if  the  sky  itself  were 
come  into  the  Quadruple  Alliance  ; — upon  the  forwardness 
of  our  Navy,  part  of  which  are  at  Sea  ; — and  upon  the 
raising  Troops,  the  success  of  the  new  Levies,  and  tiie 
like  ; — and,  is  obliged  to  apply  himself  to  that  more 
weighty  affair  between  Madam  Miranda  and  her  Pre- 
tenders. 

"The  state  of  this  Lady's  Affairs,  it  seems,  stands  at 
present  thus,  in  few  Words  ;  having  received  an  almost 
innumerable  number  of  Letters  in  answer  to  her  first 
Proposal  of  Matrimony,  she  dispatch'd  some  of  them  by 
our  Hands  in  the  last  Journal,  their  substance  being,  in. 
her  Opinion,  perfectly  remote  from  the  matter.  That 
some  of  them  may  have  Weight  she  does  not  deny,  and 
therefore  has  order'd  them  to  be  honoured  in  her  Name 
with  a  Publication  at  length  ;  and  as  to  those  which  are 
still  omitted,  she  desires  the  Parties  may  take  her  silence 
for  the  best  Answer  that  can  be  given  them. 

"  The  first  of  these  to  be  published,  is  a  very  ingenious 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  4G9 

good-humour'd  Letter  in  French  ;  the  Lady  commands  ns 
not  to  translate  it,  because,  she  says,  it  is  not  easy  to  make 
a  Transhition  e(|nal  to  the  Original,  or  to  do  Justice  to 
the  Author,  in  the  spirit,  vivacity,  and  the  beauty  of  the 
Expression  ;  but  as  to  the  Gentleman  himself,  the  Lady 
only  says,  that  she  is  very  sorry  he  is  not  an  Englishman, 
which  happens  to  be  one  of  the  Circumstances  which  she 
long  ago  obliged  herself  to. 

"  Next  to  this,  we  were  oblig'd  to  insert,  at  large,  a 
Letter  written  from  this  Lady's  former  Lover,  who  claims 
to  do  himself,  and  her  too,  some  Justice,  in  rectifying 
some  Misunderstandings  that  have  happened  between 
them,  and  which  have  perhaps  been  the  Occasion  of  the 
Lady's  looking  abroad  to  please  herself  better  ;  Kow  we 
cannot  deny  but  that  the  Gentleman  is  very  much  in  the 
right  to  recover  her  if  he  can,  and  herein  we  should  do 
him  Justice  by  publishing  his  Letter  ;  but  we  are  now 
prevented  from  inserting  either  of  these  Letters  at  this 
time." 

"  A.  J.,  3Iay  27. — We  have  been  often  told  how  a 
great  many  intended  Matches  have  been  lately  broken  off 
by  the  sudden  and  unexpected  Fall  of  Fortunes  in  Ex- 
change-Alley. But  the  following  Story  is  an  Listance  of 
one  that  was  brought  on  by  that  very  Means.  A  certain 
young  Gentleman  near  Covent  Garden,  had  no  sooner  got 
above  £40,000  by  the  South  Sea  Traffic,  but  he  forgot  a 
beautiful  and  virtuous  Lady,  that  he  was  upon  the  Point 
of  being  marry'd  to.'  However,  according  to  the  uncer- 
tain rotation  of  human  Affairs,  this  same  Gentleman,  half 
a  year  after,  was  strijiped  of  all,  having  lost  not  only  his 
acquir'd,  but  his  original  Fortune.  He  thereupon  put  on 
a  bold  Face,  for  he  had  no  other  Game  to  play,  and  came 
to  his  quondam  Mistress,  and  told  her  his  Case  ;  and,  in 
short,  that  he  was  so  reduc'd  as  to  want  five  or  six 
Guineas  ;  to  which  she  reply'd,  /  am  glad  of  that  with  all 
my  Hearts    Are  you  so,  3Iadam?  Said  he  again,  suspect- 

'  Let  it  be  remembered  in  connection  with  Bacon's  secret  scheme 
for  revenue,  that  it  was  £40,000  that  Raleigh  was  to  forfeit  in  case 
of  failure  to  perform  his  promises.  This  was  the  amount  of  Bacon's 
fine  fixed  upon  at  his  fall, 

2  This  expression,  "  with  all  my  heart,"  may  be  found  throughout. 
I  have  observed  its  use  some  six  or  seven  different  times  in  the  plays. 
See  the  expression  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  pp.  91,  275,  and  313. 
And  on  p.  275  we  have  :  "  But  now  we  are  in,  we  are  in,  and  I  am 


470  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

ing  her  Constancy,  as  one  that  had  been  himself  incon- 
stant might  very  well  do.  Wht/  so !  Because,  says  she, 
I  can  give  you  five  or  six  tliousand  ;  and  so  she  did,  and 
herself  into  the  Bargain." 

We  next  give  2)lace  to  the  first  paragraphs  of  an  impor- 
tant article  issued  in  1719,  showing  fears  for  the  Reformed 
faith. 

"J/./.,  May  30. — Mr.  Mist, — I  suppose  you  are  not 
tied  up  altogether  to  Froth  and  Levity,  but  now  and  then 
(not  to  use  it)  you  may  away  with  something  more  solemn 
and  solid  than  Whitsdntide  Walking  and  Miranda's 
Fables.  Do  you  consider,  man,  that  while  the  World  is 
preparing  to  go  together  by  the  Ears  for  Baubles  abroad, 
— as  Ambition,  Avarice,  and  -the  Devil  guide  them, — we 
are  actually  engaged  in  a  worse  War  at  home.^  I  say  a 
worse  War  ;  for  they  fight  Men  against  Men,  but  here  we 
are  grown  so  audacious,  tha,t  like  the  Titans  of  old  we  are 
engaged  in  tlie  same  unequal  Combat  as  the  Poets  feigned 
of  tliose  Giants  against  Jupiter.  In  a  word,  the  War  is 
against  Heaven  itself.  Mortal  Man  against  Almighty 
God  ;  and  where  it  will  End  judge  you. 

''  What  I  speak  of,  you  will  easily  guess  to  be  the  break- 
ing out  of  the  old  Arian  Heresy  among  us, — and  particu- 
larly the  frightful  consequences  of  it  among  our  religious 
people, — driving  them,  by  the  mere  force  of  Controversy, 
into  all  the  Errors  and  Blasphemies  of  Lelius,  Socinus, 
Michael,  Servetus,  and  Fustus  Socinus,  the  great  Father 
of  Socinianism."     (Lee,  vol.  ii.,  p.  129.) 

We  next  give  place  to  the  first  of  several  articles  con- 
cerning the  Hell-Fire  Club,  and  dated  May  13th,  1721 
(Lee,  vol.  ii.,  p.  373),  and  which  is  as  follows  : 

"  A.  J.,  May  13. — Sir, — I  have  made  diligent  Enquiry 

glad  with  all  my  heart."  In  the  play  of  the  Prince  of  Tyre,  Act  v., 
sc.  2,  p.  379,  we  have  : 

"  Shall  we  refresh  us,  sir,  upon  your  shore, 
And  give  you  gold  for  such  provision 
As  our  intents  will  need  ? 

Lys.  Sir, 
With  all  my  heart ;  and  when  you  come  ashore, 
I  have  another  suit." 

Bacon  says  :  "  For  certainly  counsel  is  the  blind  man's  guide  ;  and 
sorry  I  am  with  all  my  heart,  that  in  this  case  the  blind  did  lead  the 
blind."    (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iv.,  p.  355.) 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 


471 


among  all  Parts  of  the  Town,  which  I  am  acquainted 
with,  to  find,  if  possible,  some  one  Member,  or  harden'd 
Defender  of  the  Members  of  these  impious  Societies,  so 
much  talk'd  of  ;  and,  to  my  particular  Satisfaction,  I 
must  acknowledge  I  have  not  found,  and  cannot  find  one 
of  them,  or  any  Footsteps  of  one  of  them,  or,  at  least, 
one  that  will  dare  to  own  any  Thing  of  it  ;  although  my 
Diligence  in  the  Search,  has  been,  I  assure  you,  very  par- 
ticular, and  such  as  would  be  thought,  if  you  knew  it  all, 
to  be  very  sufficient. 

"  From  hence  I  have  had  a  strong  Inclination,  to  question 
the  Truth  of  the  whole  Story  ;  and  that  indeed  there  is 
no  such  Thing,  no  Men  so  wicked,  no  Set  of  Men  so 
audacious.  I  must  confess,  I  should  be  very  glad  to  say, 
I  hope  there  is  nothing  more  in  it  but  Rumour  and  Ohimour  ; 
tho',  on  the  other  Hand,  I  am  very  apt  to  take  it 
the  other  Way,  and  to  say  with  his  Majesty's  Declaration 
and  Order,  and  hope,  that  there  is  no  ground  to  believe  it. 
"But  when  I  was  indulging  that  charitable  Thought, 
it  return'd,  that  tho'  they  may  not  merit  that  Vile 
Name  particularly,  yet  there  is  a  Set  of  Men  who  having 
openly  deny'd  the  Son  of  God,  robb'd  him  of  his  Divinity, 
and  consequently  of  his  glorious  and  immortal  Nature,— 
have  levell'd  him  with  themselves;  and  who,  m  like 
manner,  have  expos'd  to  ridicule  the  Notion  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  of  his  glorious  Influence  upon  the  Soiils  ot 
Men.  And,  I  say,  what  are  these  but  a  Hell  Fire  Club, 
in  whom  all  ideas  of  Gospel-Light  are  eradicated,  and 
blotted  out  of  the  Mind  ;  and  who  are  harden'd  to  deny 
the  Lord  that  bought  them. 

"  For  my  Part,  when  Men  are  impious,  and  merely  for 
a  Flout,'  as  these  Men  do,  cast  off  all  Eeverence  of  the 
Deity,  lay  aside  all  sorts  of  Knowledge  and  Learning,  and 
set  themselves  up  to  tell  their  Redeemer,  that  he  is  not  the 
Person  the  World  has  taken  him  for  ;  these  Men  seem  to 
be  ripen'd  up  by  the  Progress  of  their  Crimes  to  become 
what  we  call  Fire-Brands  of  Hell,  or  any  Thing  ;  and 
there  never  was,  in  my  Opinion,  a  more  direct  and  Oppo- 
site Denomination  for  them,  than  that  of  a  Hell-Fire  Club. 
"  Tell  me  not  of  Civility,  or  of  using  such  Men  as  these 

'  This  word  "  flout,"  as  used  in  the  play  of  The  Tempest,  was  the 
starting-poiut  in  my  interpretation  of  that  work,  and  it  may  be 
found  throughout  these  writings. 


47:^  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYKINTH. 

with  ill  Manners.  There  are  indeed  a  sort  of  wild  Crea- 
tures in  the  Fields  and  Woods,  which  being  found  by  the 
Sportsmen,  they  give  a  certain  Latitude  to,  which  we  call 
the  Game  Law.'  But  there  are  another  sort  which  are 
voracious  and  impudent,  who,  if  you  will  not  attack  them, 
will  attack  you.  To  these  we  give  no  Law,  but  Knock 
their  Brains  out,  wherever  they  may  be  found. 

"  Such,  in  a  Degree,  are  the  People  I  am  speaking  of. 
Tell  me  no  more,  I  say,  of  treating  these  Men  like  Gentle- 
men, who  will  not  treat  their  Saviour  like  a  God.  They 
who  can  audaciously  rank  our  Blessed  Redeemer  with 
Men,  should  themselves  be  rank'd  with  Beasts.  If  Jesus 
Christ  must,  by  those  Wretches,  be  call'd  a  mere  Man, 
I  am  sure  they  do  not  merit  the  Title  of  Men,  but  should 
be  used  like  Brutes,  or  like  something  a  great  deal  worse  ; 
I  mean  Devils,  human  Devils,  incarnate  Devils  ;  or,  in 
modern  English,  Hell-Fire  Men.  The  Title  is  very  suita- 
ble to  them  ;  and  very  suitable  to  what  they  will  certainly 
be,  at  last. 

"  Let  us  search  no  further  then,  if  these  are  not  the 
same,  the  individual  Ilell-Fire  Club,  which  the  King's 
Proclamation,  or  publick  Order,  has  branded  with  the  Title 
of  Impious, — they  are  certainly  the  same  Thing  in  reality  ; 
for  what  can  be  more  Impious  ?  What  a  greater  Insult  of 
Heaven  than  to  deny  the  Son  of  God  to  be  God,  as  if  we  could 
divide  the  Infinite,  and  make  Classes  of  Gods,  contrary  to 
the  express  Words  of  the  Scripture  ;  The  Lord  tliij  God  is  one 
God ;  or  as  if,  because  we  are  taught  to  distinguish  the 
Persons  in  the  Trinity,  that  therefore,  as  I  wrote  once 
before,  we  could  solve  the  Doctrine  of  the  Trinity  by  a 
System  of  Human  Generation. 

"  Make  then  no  more  Difficulty  in  the  Search  ;  here  is 
your  Hell-Fire  Club."      All  the   Deists  and  Arians,   and 

'  This  distinct  thought  I  remember  to  have  seen  in  Bacon's  writ- 
ings, but  I  do  not  now  remember  where  it  may  be  found. 

*  These  articles  have  evidently  a  relation  to  Bunyan's  Holy  War, 
and  which  with  greater  ease  may  be  shown  to  be  Bacon's  than  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress.  We  understand  it  as  written  soon  after  the 
breach  of  the  mentioned  Spanish  marriage  alliance.  Its  character. 
"My  Lord  Willbewill,"  we  understand  to  personate  qualities  pos 
sessed  by  Buckingham.  Touching  the  Hell- Fire  Club  we  quote  from 
it  thus  :  "  And,  said  he,  if  you  break  in  upon  them,  as  1  wish  we  do, 
either  with  some,  or  with  all  our  force,  let  them  that  break  in  look 
to  it,  that  they  forget  not  the  work.  And  let  nothing  be  heard  in  the 
Town  of  Mansoul  but  Hell-fire,  Hell-tire,  Hell- tire." 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  473 

modern  Socinians,  which  we  find  risen  up  among  us,  are 
Members  of  it ;  and  you  ought  to  go  to  the  Bench  of 
Justices  and  demand,  the  Reward  for  the  Information,  as 
'tis  promis'd  in  their  Advertisements,  to  encourage  those 
that  should  detect  them.  I  am,  Sir,  your  Servant,  Ortho- 
dox." 

We  next  introduce  part  of  an  article  under  date  Feb- 
ruary 3d,  1722  (Lee,  vol.  ii.,  p.  483),  as  follows  ; 

"  A.  J.,  Feb.  3. — Sir,  St.  Augustine,  in  his  Epistles  to 
Marcellinus,  tells  us,  that  the  Eomans  Justify'd  the  Lib- 
erty they  allow'd  themselves  in,  to  the  Practice  of  all 
manner  of  Vice,  from  the  Pattern  of  their  Gods,  which 
Patterns  they  drew  from  the  fabulous  Writings  of  their 
ancient  Authors,  and  the  Eecapitulation  of  them  in 
Homer,  in  Ovid,  and  such  celebrated  writers  of  those 
Times. 

"  The  Stories  of  the  Rapes  and  Incests  of  Jupiter,  the 
Lewdness  of  Venus  and  Mars,  and  the  like,  made  those 
Crimes  not  only  familiar  to  Men,  but  took  off  the  Scandal 
of  them  ;  for  it  was  hard  to  perswade  Men  that  they  might 
not  be  allowed  to  commit  such  Things  as  were  legitimated 
by  the  Practice  of  those  Beings,  who  they  thought  fit  to 
adore. 

"  It  must  be  confess'd,  it  seems  wonderful  how  the 
Honour  and  Reverence  given  to  those  impious  Deities  could 
be  so  long  maintained  in  the  World,  while  their  Historians 
were  stain'd  with  so  many  vile  Actions  !  Things,  some 
of  which  were  shocking  even  to  Nature,  and  could  no 
otherwise  be  supported  but  by  extinguishing  both  the  light 
of  Nature,  and  Reason,  in  the  Minds  of  Men  ;  nay,  by  ex- 
tinguishing all  the  Degrees  of  Virtue  and  Morality,  and 
transforming  Men  into  Monsters  of  Wickedness  ! 

"  There  is  no  doubt  but  this  very  Thing  did  assist,  at 
last,  in  pulling  down  the  Pagan  Worship  in  the  World, 
and  exploding  those  Rights  which  were  manifestly  ap- 
pointed to  Set  oif  imaginary  Deities  ;  who,  if  they  had 
any  real  Essence,  were  fitter  to  be  detested,  as  infernal 
Furies  and  Devils,  than  worship'd  as  Gods.  On  the  con- 
trary, the  Christian  Religion  recommends  itself  from  the 
Purity  of  its  Precepts,  and  the  sublime  Nature  of  its 
Worship,  which  was  directed  to  the  Glorious  Maker  of  all 
Things,  and  to  him  only  ;  and  withal,  from  this  general 
happy  Character,  which  its  Professors  also  made  evident  by 


474  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

their  Practice,  namely,  that  it  commanded  all  that  was 
Good  and  Virtuous,  Just  and  Ujsright,  Humble  and 
Gentle, — and  Forbade  all  that  was  Wicked,  Unjust,  Dis- 
honorable, Immodest,  or  Arrogant  and  Proud. 

"  But  to  go  back  to  the  Romans  ;  while  they  serv'd 
these  impure  Deities,  it  was  no  Wonder,  I  say,  that  they 
imitated  their  Practices,  and  justify'd  their  Manners  from 
their  Example  ;  and  by  this  means  the  World  was,  in 
those  Days  overwhelm 'd  with  all  manner  of  Vices  and 
Immoralities. 

"  Since  the  Suppressing  the  Pagan  "Worship,  and.  that 
the  Examples  of  the  Gods  would  no  more  bear  Men  out  in 
their  Impious  Practices,  the  Sons  of  Crime  fly  to  the 
Practice  of  their  Governors  for  their  Pattern,  Regis  ad 
exemphtm  ;  and  it  is  a  kind  of  Warrant  for  Debauchery, 
either  of  Morals  or  of  Principles,  that  those  who  are 
either  the  Guides  or  Censors  of  Men's  Actions  should  be 
allow'd  for  their  Examples. 

"  Hence,  in  all  Christian  Nations,  pious  and  just 
Princes  have  thought  themselves  highly  obliged  to  keep  a 
Guard  upon  their  own  Conduct,  lest  the  people  should 
fall  into  Corruption  and  Degeneracy  of  Manners  by  their 
Example.  It  was  the  saying  of  a  wise  Heathen,  Thai  it 
is  in  the  Power'  of  Princes  to  reform  Ei^igdoms  hy  their 
Example,  hut  that  it  can  never  he  done  hy  Force.  It  was 
said,  by  way  of  Character,  of  Constantius  the  Roman  Em- 
peror, Son  of  Constantine  the  Great,  that  he  gave  excel- 
lent Laws  to  the  Empire,  but  did  not  promote  their  Exe- 
cution by  his  Example  ;  and  upon  this  Score  it  was  left 
doubtful,  whether  he  was  to  be  rank'd  among  the  good 
Emperors  or  the  bad. 

"  It  is  further  observable,  that  an  evil  Example  is  much 
more  prevalent  and  fatal  to  the  Morals  of  a  Nation,  when 
it  comes  from  those  Magistrates  or  great  Men,  who  are 
most  popular,  and  who  have  gain'd  most  upon  the  Affec- 
tion and  Opinion  of  the  People. 

"  I  began  the  Argument  in  the  Examples  of  Emperors 
and  Sovereign  Princes,  but  I  level  the  Inferences  to  that 
which  is  my  principal  View  and  Design  ;  namely  that  of 
Magistrates  and  great  Men  ;  who,  tho'  they  are  not 
immediate  Sovereigns,  are  yet  the  Men  to  whom  the 
People  have  their  Eye  in  a  more  than  ordinary  Manner, 
with  respect  to  their  Morals  ;   because,   by  their  Office, 


THKEAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  475 

they  are  empovver'd  to  punish  the  Immoralities  of  others, 
and  therefore  ought  to  be  as  popuhir  in  their  Example, 
as  they  are  in  their  Stations  and  authority.  And  I  insist 
that  when  any  Person  has,  either  by  his  private  or  publick 
conduct,  made  himself  popular  ;  he  has  a  double  Obliga- 
tion upon  him  to  guard  his  Behaviour  in  such  a  manner, 
that  no  corrupt  Precept  or  Principles  may  come  recom- 
mended to  the  World  from  his  Authority." 

Our  next  article  bears  date  November  26th,  1720  (Lee, 
vol.  ii.,  p.  302),  and  concerns  the  mentioned  Miranda  or 
South  Sea  marriage.     It  is  as  follows  : 

"A.  J.,  Nov.  26. — Sir,  — You  are  one  of  our  Weekly 
Oracles,  Ood  help  us !  and,  for  want  of  a  better,  we  are 
fain  to  come  every  now  and  then  to  you,  and  the  rest  of 
your  Journalists,  and  such  like  Conjurors,  to  tell  us  our 
Fortunes  ;  as  men  did  to  the  like  senseless  Devils,  in  the 
Days  of  Yore,  at  Delphos,  Airi,  Chios,  and  other  places, 
— to  the  Weekly  Journals  of  Diana,  AjJoUo,  and  the  rest 
of  them. 

"  Now,  since  we  have  such  infallible  Scoundrels  to  go 
to,  we  humbly  hope  you  will  all  put  your  Heads  together. 
Tell  the  Towii  a  little  what  is  like  to  be  their  Fortune  in 
the  great  Transactions  of  Trade  that  are  now  coming 
upon  the  Stage,  and  of  which  we  are  at  this  Time  so  very 
doubtful,  in  which  so  many  Thousand  Families  are  so 
deeply  concern' d,  as,  for  aught  we  know,  to  be  over  Head 
and  Ears  in  the  Mire  of  it  ;  in  short,  we  mean  the  Sotcth- 
Sea.  Tell  us,  0  ye  sage  Journal  Scribblers  !  what  will  be 
its  Fate  this  approaching  Time  of  Tryal  ;  and  will  the 
Company  come  out  of  the  dirty  Mizmaze  they  have  brought 
themselves  and  their  Adventurers  into,  or  will  they  not  ? 
That  is  to  say,  Will  they  come  out  with  Applause  ? 

"  We  are  told,  that  the  Dutch,  who  are  Fellow-Sufferers 
with  us,  have  made  Pictures  and  Hieroglyphicks,  to  repre- 
sent Things  by,  and  to  strike  the  Fancies  of  the  Common 
People,  viz. : 

"  1.  Several  great  Ships,  deeply  laden  with  English 
Merchants,  all  sinking  in  the  Ocean  ;  and  upon  the  Ocean 
where  they  sink  is  written.  Mare  del  Zur,  or  the  South-Sea. 

"  2.  Twelve  English  Cars,  with  each  of  them  two  Old 
Women  going  to  Execution,  and  over  their  Heads  written, 
Den  gross  Copmans,  or  the  Great  Merchants,  Avhicli  some 
say,  in  English  may  be  call'd  Dire  .  .  ORS. 


476  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYKINTH. 

"  Whether  this  is  true  or  no,  we  do  not  affirm  ;  for  we 
come  to  inquire  of,  not  ta  inform,  the  Oracle.  But  let  that 
be  as  it  will,  my  Questions  to  you  are  plain,  if  you  can 
give  a  plain  honest  Answer,  such  as  may  be  depended 
upon,  Magnus  Apollo  shall  be  one  of  the  least  Compli- 
ments the  Town  shall  bestow  upon  you. 

"  1.  Will  Petitions  be  presented  to  the  Parliament, 
when  assembled,  to  pray  them  to  make  Enquiry  into  the 
Conduct  of  those  People,  who,  last  Session,  were  estab- 
lish'd  anew,'  and  who  have  since  been  entrusted  to  such  a 
Degree  with  the  Estates  and  Fortunes  of  the  weak  People 
of  the  Town  ?     Oj-  iuill  they  not  ? 

"  2.  Will  the  Proprietors  of  the  Eedeemables,  etc.  com- 
monly call'd  Annuitants,  make  Application  for  Relief 
against  the  Company?     Oi-  will  they  not? 

"  3.  Will  the  Subscribers  on  the  several  Subscriptions 
lose  the  Money  they  have  paid  into  the  Company  upon 
their  first  Subscribing,  rather  than  stand  to  their  Sub- 
scriptions, and  take  the  Stock  at  400  ?     Or  will  they  not  ? " 

"  4.   Will  the  Borrowers,  to  whom  the  Company  lent 

Money  upon  their  Stock,  after  the  Rate  of  400  percent,  re- 

■  deem  their  Stock,  and  repay  the  Money  ?     Or  iviU  they  not  ? 

"  5.  Will  the  Company  make  any  new  Proposals  to  the 
Parliament,  in  order  to  Satisfy  the  People  ?  Or,  will 
they  insist  upon  the  Reasonableness  of  their  last  Offers, 
and  expect  the  Event? 

"  6.  Will  the  Company  declare  a  New  Dividend  for 
Christmas  Half-year,  before  they  come  to  have  the  Reso- 
lutions of  the  Parliament  in  their  Favour,  or  otherwise  ; 
or,  will  they  stay  to  see  what  the  Parliament  shall  resolve 
before  they  meddle  with  it  ? 

"  7.  Will  Paper  Credit  revive  any  more?  And  can  the 
Parliament  do  any  Thing  to  restore  it  as  it  was  before? 
And  if  tliey  should,  Will  it  be  better  for  us,  or  worse  ? 

"  8.  Will  the  Contract  stand  good,  which  was  said  to  be 
made  between  the  Bank  and  the  South-Sea  Company,  to 

'  Let  it  be  further  investigated  as  to  whether  there  was  a  reorgani- 
zation of  the  company  that  was  interested  in  Raleigh's  voyage, 
already  considered,  and  in  which,  as  Bacon  says,  many  lost  their 
fortunes.     See  p.  387. 

^  We  have  seen  that  the  adjustment  of  Bacon's  effects  went  by 
the  King's  direction  to  the  Lord  Treasurer  Crautield  as  referee.  We 
may  yet  see  that  the  combined  influences  against  Bacon  grew  to  be 
such  as  to  justify  him  in  abandoning  even  a  good  defence. 


THKEAD  OF  THE  LABYKINTH.  477 

take  three  Millions,  three  Quarters,  of  their  Stock,  at  400 
2)61'  cent,  or  near  it  ?     Or  ivill  they  not  f 

"  9.  Who  now  best  deserve  the  Name  of  Old  W —  meii, 
the  Directors  of  the  Bank,  or  the  Directors  of  the  South- 
Sea  Company  ? 

"  10.  Is  it  not  possible  to  dissolve  this  projected  Scheme 
of  the  South-Sea,  and  yet  to  have  the  Property  and  Ad- 
vantages of  the  Proprietors  be  preserv'd  in  other  Hands, 
and  under  better  Management? 

"  These  material  Questions  we  desire  you  may  Answer 
us  by  yourself,  or  your  Representative,  in  your  next 
Journal ;  and  we  must  tell  you,  that  upon  a  substantial 
Answer,  very  much  of  your  Credit  will  depend  ;  for  if 
nothing  can  be  done  or  said  to  relieve  us,  in  the  present 
Distress  of  our  Stock,  we  shall  have  as  little  Opinion  of 
your  Work,  as  we  had  of  the  Dir  .  .  .  ors  themselves, 

"  We  have  many  other  significant  Things  to  bring 
before  your  Eminences,  but  do  not  think  fit  to  trouble 
you  with  too  many  at  a  Time  ;  besides,  we  know  it  is  not 
proper  to  ask  you  Questions  of  what  the  Parliament  will, 
or  will  not,  may  or  may  not,  do  or  determine,  at  this 
Time,  in  an  Affair  of  such  Consequence.  We  take  it  upon 
ourselves  to  say,  we  believe  the  Parliament  will  do  all 
tbat  lyes  in  them  to  establish  a  better  Understanding 
among  us  ;  which  will  be,  for  aught  we  know,  the  only 
Way  that  is  left  to  save  the  Property  of  the  Adventurers, 
and  the  Credit  of  the  Company.  But  whether  even  the 
Parliament  itself  can  effectually  do  these  Things  or  not, 
we  cannot  tell. 

"  No  doubt,  it  would  be  of  great  Service,  at  this  Criti- 
cal Juncture,  to  establish  a  new  and  mutual  Confidence 
between  the  Company  and  the  World  of  Subscribers  which 
are  now  concern'd  with  them  ;  and  as  this  shall,  or  shall 
not,  be  brought  to  pass,  the  Credit  of  the  Stock  will  neces- 
sarily rise  or  fall.  How  this  shall  be  done,  you  will  be  a 
greater  Conjurer  than  we  take  you  for,  if  you  can  tell. 
However,  if  you  know  any  Thing,  we  pray  you  to  com- 
municate it,  for  the  Good  of  your  Neighbors  and  Friends.* 

"  Anthony  Tom  Eichakl>." 

'  In  earlier  pages  we  have  noted  Bacon's  statement  in  a  Promns 
Note  and  elsewhere  that  nothing  comes  unawares  to  him,  and  tluit 
long  before  he  casts  what  may  be.  There  are  reasons  to  believe 
that  he  carried  along  with  his  years  an  undisclosed  literary  lecord. 


478  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

Tliis  article  was  dated  November  26th,  1720,  as  we  have 
seen.  The  next  is  dated  December  3d,  and  shows  the 
great  necessity  for  carrying  these  matters  with  secrecy  in 
the  nation's  councils,  and  ends  thus  :*  "  Depend  upon  it, 
that  either  the  Town  knows  nothing  of  the  Schemes  that 
are  on  Foot,  or  those  that  have  them  in  their  Hands,  are 
not  worthy  of  being  trusted  with  them.  Secrecy  is  the 
Life  of  such  Councils.*  To  expose  them  beforehand, 
would  be  to  signify  to  the  World,  that  they  are  not  equal 
to  the  Trust,  and  know  not  what  they  have  to  do  ;  for  to 
expose  the  Schemes  is  to  destroy  the  Schemes.  Assure 
yourself,  that  what  is  doing  is  no  more  known  to  these 
Men,  than  to  the  Czar  of  Muscovy,  or  to  the  Grand 
Seignior  ;  and  I  refer  you  to  the  Issue  of  Things,  to  judge 
who  is  in  the  right. — Your  Friend  and  Servant,  All- 
Hide." 

Was  Bacon's  scheme  of  the  New  Atlantis,  as  already 
intimated,  in  some  way  tacked  to  legislative  projects  for 
revenue,  and  in  which  Buckingham — the  great  King 
Screen — was  also  involved  ?  and  do  we  here  reach  the  true 
Thread  of  the  Labyrinth  r 

Bacon's  secret  scheme  for  revenue  subsequent  to  Salis- 
bury's death,  the  papers  concerning  which  Mr.,  Spedding 
supposes  to  be  lost,  has  already  fallen  under  review.  Did 
it  concern  discovery  and  trade  to  the  South  Sea?  Lord 
Bacon,  through  colonization,  evidently  possessed  the  hope 
of  ultimately  becoming,  either  as  governor,  bishop,  or  in 
some  central  way,  the  operative  head  of  his  great  life 
scheme,  the  New  Atlantis.  Let  the  reader  here  reperuse 
Bacon's  speech  touching  Drowned  Mineral  Works  at  p.  18. 
In  it  he  may  see  why  the  true  author  of  the  Defoe  litera- 
ture gave  so  large  attention  to  the  criminal  element.  In 
our  quotation  from  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  p.  21, 
we  find  Mare  del  Zur,  or  the  South  Sea,  in  the  foregoing 
article  mentioned,  named  as  a  possible  location  for  the 

Otherwise  what  does  he  mean  when  he  speaks  of  breaking  the  order  of 
time  ? 

'  We  have  seen  that  Bacon  recommended  his  scheme  for  revenue 
to  be  so  carried.     See  pp.  235  and  236. 

^  This  very  sentence  will  be  oft  found  used  by  Bacon. 

^  We  can  see  reasons  why  Bacon  would  not  wish  these  matters 
disclosed  even  after  his  fall,  as  they  would  have  brought  to  light 
his  literary  methods  before  the  chosen  time. 


THREAD   OF  THE   LABYRINTH.  479 

New  Atlantis/  We  have  seen  that  the  voyage  of  the  New 
Atlantis  opens  abruptly  and  takes  its  course  by  way  of  the 
South  Sea  to  China  and  Japan. 

In  1711  Harley  introduced  into  Parliament  a  bill  in  ref- 
erence to  trade  to  the  South  Sea,  and  concerning  which 
Lee,  vol.  i.,  p.  179  says  :  "Public  credit  still  continued 
in  a  state  of  great  exhaustion,  funds  were  required  for  the 
carrying  on  of  the  war,  and  for  paying  off  the  debts  of 
the  kingdom.  The  Parliament  was  in  session,  and  it  was 
the  duty  of  Harley,  as  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  to 
propose  the  necessary  ways  and  means.  His  life  was  not 
considered  to  be  out  of  danger  until  the  end  of  five  weeks, 
and  he  would  not  entrust  his  colleagues  with  the  secret  of 
his  intended  measures.  After  the  House  of  Commons 
had  been  compelled  to  adjourn  for  several  days  on  account 
of  his  absence,  he  ventured,  though  still  very  weak  from 
his  wounds,  and  laid  before  Parliament  his  project  for 
retrieving  the  finances,  by  a  trade  to  the  South  Seas.  The 
proposal  was  approved,  though  Lord  Rochester,  and  some 
other  of  the  ministers,  did  all  in  their  power  to  defeat  it." 

We  shall  claim  this  as  an  attempt  to  enact  a  thwarted 
scheme  of  the  Baconian  period,  or  at  least  a  scheme 
which  served  as  the  occasion  for  putting  forth  undisclosed 
literature  connected  therewith,  and  which  is  yet  to  be 
known  as  Bacon's  Utopia,  or  Poetical  Commonwealth  of 
the  Defoe  Period.  His  original  scheme  having  failed,  he, 
in  our  mentioned  quotation  from  the  Anatomy  of  Melan- 
choly, p.  21,  says:  "I  will  yet,  to  satisfy  and  please 
myself,  make  an  Utopia  of  mine  own,  a  New  Atlantis,  a 
poetical  commonwealth  of  mine  own,"  etc. 

In  1720  the  South  Sea  bubble,  so  called,  is  said  to  have 
burst.  There  seems  to  be  but  little  definitely  known 
concerning  it.  And  what  is  known  seems  to  have  been 
drawn  chiefly  from  the  various  phases  of  this  literature. 
But  the  scheme  was,  probably,  to  a  certain  extent  enacted. 

We  next  introduce  an  article  which,  we  think,  concerns 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  It  bears  date  April  8th,  1721, 
and  is  as  follows  : 

"  A.  J.,  April  8. — Sir, — It  is  a  Maxim  formed  upon  the 
Experience  of  many  Ages,  that  Laws  and  Rules  of  Govern- 

•  We  have  seen  that  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy  was  reissued  in 
two  volumes  after  Bacon's  fall  and  in  1621. 


480  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

ment  are  like  Nets  which  catch  the  small  Fish,  but  the 
greater  break  thro'.  Cobwebs  catch  the  little  Flies, 
but  the  Wasps  and  the  Hornets  tear  all  before  them,  and 

go  CLEAR.' 

"  That  it  is  so  in  the  Fisherman's  Art'^  is  true,  literally, 
as  it  is  in  Politics  symbolically  :  But  the  Fisherman's 
Answer  is,  that  for  great  Fish,  who  are  too  big  for  their 
Nets,  they  have  other  Methods  ;  that  they  have  Fisgigs, 
Harping  Irons,  Runners,  Spears,  Darts,  and  such  liive, 
with  which  they  strike  the  Dolphin,  the  Shark,  the  Por- 
pics,  the  Grampns,  and  the  Whale:  By  these  the  dex- 
trous Managers  conquer  the  most  powerful  Sea  Monsters 
they  meet  with,  even  such  Creatures  whose  bulk  is  terrible 
to  look  on,^  and  threatens  to  overset^  the  very  Ship  itself, 

'  Bacon  in  one  of  his  Apophtliegms  says  :  "  One  of  tlie  Seven 
was  wont  to  say;  That  laics  irere  like  cobwebs  ;  where  the  small  flies 
icere caught,  andthe great  brake tltorongh."  (Bacon's  Literary  Works, 
vol.  ii.,  p.  150.)  In  a  letter  to  Buckingham,  November  26tli,  1619, 
he  says  :  "  But  yet  I  hope  the  corruption  and  practice  upon  the  Ore 
tenus,  and  the  rectifying  of  Rowland's  credit,  will  satisfy  my  Lords 
upon  the  former  proofs  ;  for  I  would  be  very  sorry  that  these  new 
defendants  (which,  except  one  or  two,  are  the  smaller  flies)  should  be 
in  the  net,  and  the  old  defendants,  which  are  the  greater  flies,  should 
get  through."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  63.)  And  in  another 
letter  to  Buckingham  in  the  following  February,  p.  81,  he  says  : 
"  Mr.  Attorney  groweth  pretty  pert  with  me  of  late,  and  I  see  well 
who  they  are  that  maintain  him.  But  be  they  flies,  or  be  they 
wasps.  I  neither  care  for  buzzes  nor  stings,  most  especially  in  any- 
thing that  concerneth  my  duty  to  his  Majesty  or  my  love  to  yoiir 
Lordship."  See,  please,  this  letter,  and  which  concerns  Cranfield, 
while  the  first  concerns  the  Dutch,  we  think,  mentioned  as  sufferers 
in  the  foregoing  article.  It  opens  thus  :  "  I  know  well  his  Majesty 
taketh  to  heart  this  business  of  the  Dutch,  as  he  hath  great  reason, 
in  respect  of  both  honour  and  profit ;  and  because  my  first  letter  was 
written  in  the  epitasis,  or  troui)le  of  the  business,  and  my  second  in 
the  beginning  of  the  catastrophe,  or  calming  thereof  (wherein  never- 
theless I  was  fain  to  bear  up  strongly  into  the  weather,  before  the 
calm  followed),  and  since  every  day  hath  been  better  and  better,  I 
thought  good  to  signify  so  much,  that  his  Majesty  may  be  less  in 
suspense."  Let  these  letters  be  here  called  into  relation  and  looked 
at  with  care. 

'  As  to  the  fisherman's  art,  see  our  quotation  from  The  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  p.  69. 

^  In  the  play  of  The  Tempest  Miranda  says  : 

"  Mira.  'Tis  a  villain,  sir, 

I  do  not  love  to  look  on." 

— Act  i.,  sc.  2,  p.  34. 

*  Among  some  private  notes  made  by  Bacon,  in  1621-32,  concern- 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  481 

are  conquer'd  and  rcduc'd  l)y  small  Shallops,  well  mann* d, 
and  f  iiruish'd  with  proper  Powers  and  Instruments  for  the 
Work, 

"'  It  is  observ'd  that  where  these  Men  stick  a  Whale,  or 
any  other  monstrous  Creature,  and  fix  the  Harping  Iron 
in  him,  immediately  they  vere  out  their  Line, — let  the 
Creature  go,  and  give  him  all  the  whole  Sea  to  fling  and 
roll  himself  in, — as  if  he  had  got  clear  of  them,  and 
escaped  their  Hands.  But  still  the  bearded  Dart  sticks 
close  to  his  Flesh,  he  feels  the  Wound  that  stings  and 
torments  him  ;  he  is  struck  inwardly  witii  mortal  Terror, 
and  dyes,  or  stains,  the  Ocean  with  his  Blood  ;  till  at 
last,  spent  with  the  Violence  of  his  own  Rage,  exhausted 
by  the  Loss  of  Blood  and  Spirits,  the  vigilant  Harpooners 
begin  to  draw  in  their  Line,  and  he  comes  vanquish'd 
into  their  Hands,  feeble  and  dying  ;  and  is  guided  by  a 
Thread  to  the  Stage  appointed  for  his  Destruction. 

"  Great  Offenders  in  the  State,  whose  Power  and  Influ- 
ence make  them  aj)[)ear  terrible  and  monstrous  ;  who 
seem  to  defy  Legislatures,  and  Legislators ;  who,  sur- 
rounded with  Friends  and  Followers,  Dei^endants  upon 
them,  and  Sharers  in  the  Spoils  of  their  Country,  look 
formidable  to  those  that  offer  to  attack  them,  tho' 
with  the  legal  Instruments  of  the  Government  ;  even 
these,  some  Times,  are  struck  by  the  wise  and  vigilant 
Gnides  of  the  Laws,  in  such  a  Manner,  that  the  Guilt 
cleaves  to  them  like  a  Wound  in  their  Vitals,  like  a  Dart 
stuck  through  their  Liver,  and  they  can  never  get  it  off. 

"  They  flounce  and  roll  about  in  the  Ocean  of  Civil 
Power,'  and  make  use  of  their  publick  Figure,  and  the 
formidable  Weapons  of  Gifts,  Friends,  Preferments,  etc. 
and  by  these  make  many  a  Skreen^  for  them,  but  the 
faithful  Patriots  who  pursue  their  Blow*  wisely,  avoiding 

ins  Buckingham,  and  hereafter  quoted,  we  find  the  following  : 
"  Whale  not,  he  will  overturn  boat  or  bark,  or  admiral  or  other." 
(Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  852.) 

■  This  thought  has  a  relation  to  the  "Tale  of  a  Tub,"  later  to 
be  considered. 

^  As  to  this  use  of  the  word  screen,  see  The  Tempest,  p.  3B9. 

"  Through  all  of  tliese  writings  let  the  word  "  blow"  and  the  word 
"  blot"  be  noted,  for  they  are  Bacon's  words,  with  rarely  a  synonym  ; 
as,  "the  blow  of  fortune,"  "  tlie  blow  of  gunpowder,"  "it  were 
too  late  for  the  law  to  take  a  blow  before  it  gives."  In  his  essay 
entitled  "Of  Empire,"  he  says:  "  For  there  is  no  question  but  a 

16 


482  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

the  Force  of  their  Power  ;  lye  still,  give  them  Room  to 
play,  till  they  find  them  gradually  tir'd,  with  the  fruitless 
Labour  of  escaj^ing  by  their  Bluster  and  Rage  ;  and  then 
the  Guilt,  like  the  Harpoon,  or  Harpoon-Iron,  sticking 
fast  in  their  Vital  Part  (Conscience),  they  follow  it  Home, 
and  renew  the  Wound,  as  the  strength  to  get  clear  of  it 
declines  ;  and  thus,  at  last,  the  greatest  criminals,  are 
brought  to  Justice,  and  the  meanest  innocent  Subject 
triumphs  over  them,  with  a  Conquest  that  can  never  be 
retrieved. 

"  Great  Offenders  in  the  State  are  Devonrers,  who  sweep 
all  before  them,  like  a  great  Flood  in  Time  of  Harvest  ; 
and  'tis  the  Wisdom  of  a  Legislature  to  make  proportion'd 
Provision,  that  such  Monsters  should  never  be  suffer'd  to 
grow  too  great.  They  are  a  sort  of  Thieves,  that  dwelling 
within  Doors,  rob  the  House  with  the  help  of  that  very 
Power,  and  with  those  very  Weapons  which  they  are  en- 
trusted with  for  the  Defence  of  it. 

"  It  is  but  a  little  while  since  a  happy  Law  was  made 
in  England,  that  Servants  robbing  their  Masters,  should 
be  punish' d  as  Felons  ;  that  is  to  say,  were  to  be  esteem'd 
Thieves,  equally  with  those  who  attempted  the  House 
from  without.  And  I  remember  a  learned  and  upright 
Judge,  summing  up  the  Evidence  on  the  Tryal  in  this 
kind  'of  Offence,  was  pleased  to  explain  very  wisely  the 
Justice  of  that  Law  ;  representing,  that  by  how  much 
that  Family  had  the  greater  Confidence  in  the  Servant, 
and  entrusted  him  within  Side  of  the  Bolts  and  Bars, 
which  were  furnished  to  defend  them  against  Violence,- — 
by  which  he  had  Opportunity  not  only  to  rob  the  House, 
and  go  out  freely  to  make  his  Escape,  but  also  to  open 

"just  fear  of  an  imminent  dancer,  tbough  there  be  no  blow  given,  is 
a  lawful  cause  of  a  war."  And  in  the  plays  we  have  the  expressions 
"  the  blow  of  the  law,"  "the  blow  of  justice,"  etc.  And  see  The 
Tempest,  p.  327.  As  to  the  word  "  blot,"  he  in  Book  8,  ch.  1  of 
the  De  Augmentis,  gives  and  explains  the  proverb  "  He  that  in- 
structs a  scorner  gets  to  himself  shame,  and  he  that  rebukes  the 
wicked  gets  himself  a  blot."  See  the  word  as  used  in  some  of  the 
sonnets.  See  Sonnets  28,  36,  92,  95.  In  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  147, 
we  have  :  "  We  therefore  very  often  find,  that  persons  the  most 
accomph"shed  in  ridicule,  are  ihose  who  are  very  shrewd  at  hitting 
a  blot,  without  exerting  anything  masterly  in  themselves."  And 
see  p.  161.  In  this  article  may  be  fouud  the  word  "  slips,"  another 
permanently  used  Baconian  word  for  any  deviation  from  the  path 
of  rectitude. 


THREAD    OF   THE   LABYRINTH.  48-3 

the  Doors  and  let  in  other  Villains,  assisting  them  to  rob, 
and  perhaps  murder  his  Master  ;— by  so  much  the  more 
Criminal  was  the  Oli'ender,  and  so  much  the  more  just 
was  the  Severity  of  his  Punishment  ;  the  Household 
being  secure  in  his  Fidelity,  and  sleeping  quietly  in  Con- 
fidence of  his  being  honest  to  them, 

"  Exactly  parallel  to  this  is  the  Ccise  of  those  great 
Officers  of  State,  who  being  entrusted  by  a  Government 
with  the  Administration  of  Affairs,  and  in  whom  the 
Sovereign,  and  perhaps  the  Subjects  too,  having  a  general 
Confidence,  repose  the  Safety  of  themselves,  and  of  all 
that  belongs  to  them,  abuse  the  Confidence,  and,  under 
the  Cloak  of  an  unsuspected  Fidelity  to  their  King  and 
Country,  give  themselves  a  loose  in  secret  clandestine 
Treachery  ;  enriching  themselves  with  the  Plunder  of 
the  Nation,  which  entrusts  them  with  its  Safety,  and 
using  that  Power  which  is  given  them  for  the  publick 
Good,  as  a  Skreen  to  Corruption,  and  a  Protection  to 
their  Emissaries  and  Confederates,  in  devouring  those 
whom  they  are  employed  to  preserve.  Shall  such  Offend- 
ers go  free?  Shall  such  be  clrared  by  Niceties,  and 
the  Help  of  Numbers,  from  Publick  National  V^engeanco  ? 
Are  they  not  infinitely  more  Criminal  than  an  open 
Traytor,  who  boldly  takes  Arms  in  the  Field,  declares  his 
Treason,  and  offers  to  Maintain  it  by  the  Sword  ?  This 
latter  isa  Traytor  'tis  true  ;  and,  when  subdued  by  just 
PoM'er,  is  brought  to  the  Stroke  of  Justice,  as  he  de- 
serves ;  but  the  secret  Traytor,  who,  under  the  Favour  of 
the  Trust  reposed  in  him,  who  is  employ'd  for  the  defence 
of  the  Government,  and  has  the  Weight  of  the  publick 
Prosperity  resting  upon  his  Shoulders,  in  whose  supposed 
Wisdom  and  Probity  the  whole  Nation  rested  secure,  but 
who,  under  the  Cover  of  that  Trust,  with  the  Reputation 
of  that  Fidelity,  sAvallows  up,  and  devours  the  People 
who  entrust  him  ;  he  is  a  thousand  Times  the  more 
Guilty  of  the  Two,  and  deserves  the  more  severe  Punish- 
ment. 

"  Apply  this.  Sir,  in  such  a  Manner  as  Reason  and 
Justice  shall  direct  you.  I  am,  Sir,  your  faithful  Monitor, 
Sempronicus."     (Lee,  vol.  ii.,  p.  359.) 

AYe  now  give  place  to  part  of  an  article  a  few  days 
earlier  in  date  than  that  just  given. 

"  A.  J.,  Ajn-il  1.— Sir,  The  Liberty  of  speaking  Truth 


484  THKEAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

has  been  a  kind  of  Eight,  annex'd  not  by  Custom  and 
Eight  only,  but  by  the  Nature  of  the  Thing,  to  the 
Privileges  of  English  Men  ;  and  I  hope  we  may  claim  our 
Share  in  that  Liberty.  We  see  Men  every  Day  take  the 
unlawful  Liberty  of  speaking  Falsehood,  and  that  such 
pass  with  Impunity  among  us,  unless  it  be  now  and  then 
an  unprofitable  Lye,  that  pinches  some  Men  of  Fame  and 
Power  ;  and  then  we  find  them  exerting  that  Power,  to 
punish  the  Authors,  Publishers,  etc. 

"  But  as  1  resolve  to  say  Nothing  to  you,  nor  perswade 
you  to  say  any  Thing  to  the  World  but  what  is  Truth, 
I  hope  we  may  do  this  with  Safety.  If  this  Truth  should 
pinch'  any  Man  who  is  able  to  resent  it,  and  our  Ears 
should  be  call'd  llorns,^  I  know  not  what  we  shall  do 
then.      But  we  must  venture  that. 

"  First,  I  observe  to  you,  that,  in  my  Opinion  'tis 
speaking  Truth  to  say,  that  he  that  would  Skreen  a 
Guilty  Knave  from  Public  Justice,  is  as  bad  as  the  Guilty 
Knave  who  he  would  endeavour  to  Skreen  ;  and  tho' 
he  cannot  be  punish'd  as  the  Guilty  Knave  may  be,  yet 
he  shall  always  be  look'd  upon  by  me  as  a  Confederate  in 
the  Knavery  which  he  endeavours  to  prevent  the  enquiry 
after."  ^ 

In  vol.  vii.  of  Bacon's  Letters,  pp.  348-53,  will  be 
found  important  private  notes,  made  in  March,  1021-22, 
by  Bacon,  touching  Buckingham  and  the  King  and  Prince  ; 
and  in  order  to  make  them  the  more  private  they  were  in 
Greek  characters.  Beginning  at  p.  350,  we  quote  as 
follows  : 

"  There  be  mountebanks,  as  well  in  the  civil  body  as  in 
the  natural  ;  I  ever  served  his  Majesty  with  modesty  ;  no 
strouting,  no  undertaking. 

*  See  this  word  "  pinch"  as  used  in  tlie  play  of  The  Tempest. 
And  Bacon  uses  the  expression  "  this  was  as  grievous  to  him  as  to 
pinch  away  the  quick  flesh  from  his  body."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol. 
\v.,  p.  4.) 

"^  Promus,  2.  Good  means  against  badd,  homes  to  crosses.  Promus, 
1620.  (A  fair  pair  of  horns.)  In  As  You  Like  It,  Act  iii.,  sc.  3, 
p.  212,  we  have  :  "  As  horns  are  odious,  they  are  necessary.  It  is 
said, — many  a  man  knows  no  end  of  his  goods  :  right  ;  many  a  man 
has  good  horns,  and  knows  no  end  of  them." 

^  And  see  articles  under  date  May  27th  and  June  24th,  1721.  (Lee, 
vol.  ii.,  pp.  379-93.) 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  485 

"  Seneca  saitli,  Tarn  otii  debet  constare  ratio  quam 
negotii.     So  I  make  his  Majesty  oblation  of  both. 

_"  For  envy,  it  is  an  ahnanack  of  the  old  year,  and  as  a 
friend  of  mine  said,  the  Parliament  died  i)enitent  towards 
me. 

"Of  my  offence  far  be  it  from  me  to  say,  dat  veniam 
corvis,  vexai  censura  columbas  :  but  I  will  say  that  I  have 
good  warrant  for  ;  they  locre  not  the  greatest  offenders  in 
Israel,  upon  ivhom  the  wall  of  6'hUofeU." 

"  My  Lord  hath  done  many  things  to  show  his  great- 
ness, this  of  mine  is  one  of  them  that  shows  his  goodness.' 

"  I  am  like  ground  fresh.  If  1  be  left  to  myself  I  will 
graze  and  bear  natural  philosophy  :  but  if  the  King  will 
plough  me  up  again,  and  sow  me  with  anything,  I  hope 
to  give  him  some  yield. 

"  Kings  do  raise  and  pull  down  and  restore  ;  but  the 
greatest  work  is  restoring. 

_"  For  my  part,  I  seek  an  otium,  and,  if  it  may  be,  a  fat 
otiiwi. 

"  I  am  said  to  have  a  feather  in  my  head.  I  pray  God 
some  have  not  mills  in  their  head,  that  grind  not  well. 

"  I  am  too  old,  and  the  seas  are  too  long,  for  me  to 
doable  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope." 

"  Ashes  are  good  for  somewhat,  for  lees,  for  salts.  But 
I  hope  I  am  rather  embers  than  dead  ashes,  having  the 
heat  of  good  affections  under  the  ashes  of  my  fortunes. 

''Your  Majesty  hath  power  :  I  have  faith.  Therefore 
a  miracle  may  be  soon  wrought. 

"  I  would  live  to  study,  and  not  study  to  live  ;  yet  I 
am  prepared  for  date  oholum  Belisario ;  and  I  that  have 
borne  a  bag  can  bear  a  wallet. 

"  For  my  Pen. 
"  If  active,  3.  The  recompiling  of  laws. 

2.  The   disposing   of   wards    and    generally 

education  of  youth. 

3.  Limiting  the  Jurisdiction  of  courts,  and 

prescribing  rules   for   every  of    them. 
Reglement  of  Trade.' 

'  That  is,  Buckingham's  conduct  toward  liim  in  his  fall  shows 
clearly  what  kind  of  goodness  he  entertained  toward  him. 

*  What,  please,  does  he  mean  by  this  expression  ? 

^  And  see  the  Defoe  literature  iipon  the  subject  of  trade,  and  also 
as  to  the  education  or  training  of  youth. 


48G  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

"If  contemplative,  1.  Going  on  with  the  story  of  H. 

the  8th. 
General   Treatise   de  Legihus  et 

Justitia. 
The  Holy  War. 
"  For  my  L.  of  Buck. 
"  This  I  rank  high  amongst  his  favours.     To  the  K.  of 
him  ;  that  the  goodness  of  his  nature  may  strive  with  the 
goodness  of  his  fortune. 

"He  hath  but  one  fault,  and  that  is  that  you  cannot 
mar  him  with  any  accumulating  ^f  honours  upon  him. 

"  Now  after  this  sunshine,  a  little  dew  ;  that  same 
warr^ 

"  Whale  not,  ho  will  overturn  boat  or  bark,  or  admiral 
or  other. ' 

"  For  the  Prince. 
"  Ever  my  chief  patron. 

"  The  work  of  the  Father  is  creation  ;  of  the  Son  re- 
demption. 

"  You  would  have  drawn  me  out  of  the  fire  ;  now  out 
of  the  mire. 

"  To  ask  leave  of  the  King  to  kiss  the  Prince's  hands, 
if  he  be  not  now  present." 

Following  the  breach  of  the  Spanish  match,  and  on 
November  25th,  1G23,  same  vol.,  p.  442,  Bacon  wrote 
thus  to  Buckingham. 

"  Excellent  Lord  :  I  send  Mr.  Packer  to  have  ready, 
according  to  the  speech  I  had  with  your  Grace,  my  two 
suits  to  his  Majesty,  the  one  for  a  full  pardon,  that  1  may 
die  out  of  a  cloud  ;  the  other  for  the  translation  of  my 
honours  after  my  decease.  I  hope  his  Majesty  will  have 
compassion  on  me,  as  he  promised  me  he  would.  My 
heart  telleth  me  that  no  man  hath  loved  his  Majesty  and 
his  service  more  entirely,  and  love  is  the  law  and  the 
prophets.     I  ever  rest,"  etc. 

"Fr.  St.  Alb  an." 

Let  also  the  private  notes  made  by  Bacon  as  to  Buck- 
ingham at  about  this  time,  and  found  between  pp.  442 
and  448,  same  volume,  be  read. 

On  p.  445  we  have  : 

'■^  See  Defoe  article,  p.  480 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  487 

"  Yon  have  now  tied  a  knot,  as  I  wished  yon  ;  clii  no 
da  nudo pierde  jmnto.     A  jolly  one,  The  Parliament. 

"  Akhongh  I  conld  have  wished  that  before  a  Parlia- 
ment some  remarkable  thing  had  been  done  whereby  the 
world  might  have  taken  notice  that  you  stand  the  same 
in  grace  and  power  with  the  K.  But  there  is  time  enough 
for  that  between  this  and  Parliament.  And  besides  the 
very  prevailing  for  a  Parliament  sheweth  your  power  with 
the  K. 

"  You  march  bravely,  do  you  draw  up  your  troops  so 
well  ? 

"  One  of  these  days  I  shall  turn  my  L.  Brooke,  and  say 
to  you  0  brave  Bu. 

"  I  will  commend  you  to  all  others,  and  censure  you 
only  to  yourself.' 

"  You  bowP  well,  if  you  do  not  horse  your  bowl  an 
hand  too  much.  You  know  the  fine  bowler  is  knee  almost 
to  ground  in  the  delivery  of  the  cast. 

"  Nay  and  the  King  will  put  a  hook  in  the  nostrils  of 

'  Is  not  this  just  what  Bacon  did  as  to  Buckingham  ?  and  hence 
were  men  deceived  by  Iiis  words  concerning  him.  At  the  writing 
of  the  play  of  The  Tempest  he  thought  he  had  him  at  bay,  as 
already  stated. 

2  In'Richard  11.,  Act  iii.,  sc.  4,  p.  97,  we  have  : 

"  1  Lady.  Madam,  we'll  play  at  bowls. 

Queen.   'Twill  make  me  think,  the  world  is  full  of  rubs, 
And  that  my  fortune  runs  against  the  bias." 

Let  the  following,  from  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  v.,  sc.  2,  p.  460, 
be  called  carefully  into  relation  with  a  later  qaotaliou  from  Bacon 
touching  Alexander  : 

"  Cost.  [2h  Nath.1  O  !  sir,  you  have  overthrown  Alisander  the  con- 
queror !  You  will  be  scrap'd  out  of  the  painted  cloth  for  this  : 
your  lion,  that  holds  his  poll-ax  sitting  on  a  close-stool,  will  be  given 
to  Ajax  :  he  will  be  the  ninth  Worthy.  A  conqueror,  and  afeard  to 
speak  !  run  away  for  shame,  Alisander.  [Nath.  retires.']  There, 
an't  shall  please  you  ;  a  foolish  mild  man  ;  an  honest  man,  look  you, 
and  soon  dash'd  !  He  is  a  marvellous  good  neighbour,  in  sooth  ' 
and  a  very  good  bowler  :  but,  for  Alisander,  alas  !  you  see  how  'tis  ; 
—a  little  o'erparted  :— But  there  are  Worthies  a-coming  will  speak 
their  mind  in  some  other  sort." 

As  to  the  word  "  close-stool"  here  used,  see  p.  455.  And  see  Addi- 
son, vol.  iv.,  p.  372.  And  as  to  the  "lion"  here  referred  to,  the 
pohtical  lion,  see  pp.  162-66  and  172-75.  Note  in  the  plays  and  in 
Addison  the  words  "patches,"  "petticoat,"  "drum,"  "tailor," 
"  pudding, ""  pancake, "  etc. 


488  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYllINTH. 

Spain,  and  lay  a  foundation  of  greatness  here  to  his  chil- 
dren in  these  west  parts.  The  call  for  me,  it  is  book- 
learning.  You  know  the  King  was  wont  to  do  me  the 
honour  as  to  say  of  me  de  minimis  non  cin'at  lex :  if  good 
for  anything  for  great  volumes.  I  cannot  thridd  needles 
so  well. 

"  The  Chamb.  For  his  person  not  effectual  ;  but  some 
dependancies  he  hath  which  are  drawn  with  him.  Be- 
sides he  can  take  no  reputation  from  you. 

"  Montgomery  is  an  honest  man  and  a  good  observer. 
Can  you  do  nothing  with  Nannton  ?  Who  would  think 
now,  that  I  name  N.  to  my  L.  of  Buc.  ?  But  I  speak  to 
you  point-blank  :  no  crooked  end,  either  for  myself  or  for 
others  turn. 

"  The  French  treaty,  besides  the  Alliance,  is  to  have 
three  secret  art. :  The  one,  the  protection  of  the  liberty  of 
Germany  and  to  avoid  from  it  all  forces  thence,  like  to 
that  which  Avas  concluded  between  the  Princes  of  Ger- 
many and  H.  2,  the  last  King  except  H.  4th  of  value  in 
France,  for  the  race  of  the  Valois  were  fait neants  ;  and  in 
the  name  of  Germany  to  conclude  the  Grisons  and  Valto- 
line.  The  second,  the  conserving  of  the  liberties  of  the 
Low-Countries.  The  third,  the  free  trade  into  all  parts 
of  both  East  and  "West  Indies.  All  these  import  no  in- 
vasive hostility,  but  only  the  uniting  oi  the  states  of 
Europe  against  the  growing  ambition  of  Spain."  ' 

'  The  following  from  Addis(in,  vol.  i.,  p.  535,  mav  concern 
Bacon's  undisclosed  design.  ''The  church  of  the  Franciscan 
convent  is  famous  for  the  monument  of  the  Emperor  Maxi- 
milian the  First,  wliich  stands  in  the  midst  of  it.  It  was  erected  to 
him  by  Iiis  grandson  Ferdinand  tlie  First,  who  probably  looked 
upon  this  emperor  as  tlie  founder  of  the  Austrian  greatness.  For 
as  by  his  own  marriage  he  annexed  the  Low  Countries  to  the  house 
of  Austria,  so  by  matching  his  son  to  Joan  of  Arragon  he  settled  on 
his  posterity  the  Kingdom  of  Spain,  and  by  the  marriage  of  his 
grandson  Ferdinand  got  into  his  family  the  iiingdoms  of  Bohemia 
and  Hungary.  This  monument  is  only  honorary,  for  the  ashes  of 
the  emperor  lie  elsewhere.  On  the  top  of  it  is  a  brazen  figure  of 
Maximilian  on  his  knees,  and  on  the  sides  of  it  a  beautiful  bas-relief 
representing  the  actions  of  this  prince.  His  whole  history  is  digested 
into  twenty-four  square  panels  of  sculpture  in  bas-relief  ;  the  sub- 
ject of  two  of  them  is  his  confederacy  with  Henry  the  Eighth,  and 
the  wars  they  made  together  upon  France.  On  one  side  of  this 
monument  is  a  row  of  very  noble  brazen  statues  much  bigger  than 
the  life,  most  of  them  represent  such  as  were  some  way  or  other 
related  to  Maximilian.     Among  the  rest  is  one  that  the  fathers  of 


THREAD  OF  TUE  LABYRINTH.  489 

And  on  p.  447  we  have  : 

"  At  least  the  going  on  with  the  Parliament  hath 
gained  this,  tliat  the  discourse  is  ceased,  My  L.  of  Bn. 
hath  a  great  task.  His  head  is  full  :  either  the  match 
breaks  or  his  fortune  breaks.  He  was  [wont  to]  run  his 
courses  with  the  stream  of  the  King's  ways  ;  but  now  he 
goeth  crossway,  he  may  soon  leese  his  own  way. 

"  If  your  Gr.  go  not  now  constantly  on  for  religion 
and  round  dealing  with  Spain,  men  will  either  think  they 
were  mistaken  in  you,  or  that  you  are  brought  about ;  or 
that  your  will  is  good  but  you  have  no  power. 

"  Your  Grace  hath  a  great  party  against  you  and  a 
good  rough  way.  The  Spaniards  hate  you  :  The  Papists 
little  better.  In  the  opinion  of  the  people  you  are  green, 
and  men  yet  at  a  gaze.  Particulars  are  for  the  most  part 
discontented  friends  or  reconciled  enemies  :  and  the  nice 
dividing  between  the  sol  orient  and  Occident.''^ 

And  so  Bacon,  at  the  writing  of  tJie  play  of  The  Tem- 
pest, thought  he  had  Buckingham  at  bay.  His  secret 
feelings  toward  him  may  be  clearly  gathered,  we  think, 
from  the  foregoing,  and  engendered  not  merely  by  Buck- 
ingham's now  rash  and  profligate  courses,  but,  if  our  posi- 
tion be  true,  he  was  the  chief  mover  in  robbing  Bacon  of  his 
estate,  by  reason  of  which  he  now  feared  him,  and  stood  at 
every  avenue  to  beat  aside,  not  merely  his  pardon,  but  any 
influence  that  might  bring  a  restoration  of  the  royal 
favor. 

Bacon's  laudations  both  during  and  following  his 
troubles,  and  even  to  those  whom  he  knew  to  be  engaged 
in  robbing  him,  make  his  conduct  inexplicable  to  many.' 

the  convent  tell  us  represents  King  Arthur,  the  old  British  King. 
But  what  relation  had  that  Arthur  to  Maximilian  ?  I  do  not  ques- 
tion, therefore,  but  it  was  designed  for  Prince  Arthur,  elder  brother 
of  Henry  the  Eighth,  who  had  espoused  Catherine,  sister  of  Maxi- 
nnlian,  whose  divorce  afterwards  gave  occasion  to  such  signal  revo- 
lutions in  England.  This  church  was  built  by  Ferdinand  the  First." 
Wliy  upon  his  reputed  death  were  Bacon's  papers  sent  to  The  Hague. 
See  p.  184.  His  essay  entitled  "  Of  Empire"  throws  some  light, 
we  think,  in  the  direction  of  his  purposes.  And  see  Addison,  vol. 
iv.,  pp.  340-64,  as  to  the  Spanish  monarchy. 

'  In  his  Essay  entitled  "  Of  Praise,"  Bacon  says  :  "  Some  praise 
comes  of  good  wishes  and  respects,  which  is  a  form  due  in  civility 
to  kings  and  great  persons,  laudando  pracipere ;  when  by  telling 
men  what  they  are,  they  represent  to  them  what  they  should  be." 
And  see  p.  254. 


490  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

In  connection  with  this  thought  we  introdnce  tlie  fol- 
lowing article,  nnder  date  November  16th,  1723  : 

"A.  J.,.  Nov.  10. — Sir,  I  had  a  great  Mind,  a  long 
while,  to  come  into  the  Road  '  of  the  Times,  and  Rail  at 
my  Superiors  ;  but  it  has  occurred  to  me,  that  there  are 
Abundance  of  Ways  and  Methods  to  be  considered  of, 
for  the  decent  Performance  of  sach  an  important  Work, 
particularly  that  of  always  preserving  the  Main  Chance — 
which  you  know  Mr.  Ajjp,  is  a  nice  Concern, — /  mean 
Safety.  I  ha\e  seen  a  great  many  witty  Fellows  have 
miscarried  in  this  laudable  Work,  and  therefore  I  must 
act  with  the  greater  Caution. 

"  Some  with  greater  Plainness  than  PrwtZewce  have  spoken 
Bold  Truths,  which  the  Governments  they  live  under  Would 
not  bear  ;  and  they  have  been  punished  for  their  Folly. 

"  Some  with  greater  Boldness  than  Truth  have  spoken 
damn'd  Lyes,  which  no  Government  that  they  lived  under 
Ought  to  bear  ;  and  those  have  been  punished  for  their 
Knavery. 

"  The  best  Character  the  first  Sort  have  obtained,  has 
been  to  pass  for  honest  well  meaning  Fools;  and  even 
the  Party  whom  they  Served,  and  Suffered  for,  would  at 
best  only  Pity  them,  but  never  Stand  by  them.  Remem- 
ber that  too,  Mr.  App !  which  is  sufficient  Warning 
against  ruining  one's  self  for  a  Party,  or  a  Cause.  'Tis 
much  better  to  be  Envied,  than  Pitied  in  the  World. 

"  On  the  other  Hand,  the  worst  Character  the  Second 
Sort  have  obtained,  has  only  added  that  of  Knaves  to  the 
Fool,  and  yet  they  hare  perhaps  been  as  much  pitied  as 
the  former  ;  for  the  Knaves,  of  the  two,  have  generally 
the  better  Luck. 

"  Now  all  these  Ways  having  been  Tried,  I  see  no  En- 
couragement to  vent  my  Gall  that  Way.  But  if  I  fall  upon 
my  Masters,  I  think  I  must  begin  with  Panegyrich,  for 
as  two  Negatives  make  an  Affirmative,  why  should  not 
two  Affirmatives  make  a  very  good  Negative  ?  The  ex- 
tremes of  Panegyrick  ought  no  doubt  to  be  accepted  for 
Satyr,  and  perhaps  are  the  highest  accesses  of  Satyr, 
which  an  Author,   or   Poet  can    arrive  to  -^    and  if  the 

'  To  this  use  of  the  word  "  road  "  we  have  already  called  atten- 
tion.    Please  see  p.  388. 

'^  Bacou  thus  often  ended  the  member  of  a  sentence  with  the  prep- 
osition "  to,"  preceded  by  the  word  "arrive." 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  491 

Persons  so  dealt  with  cannot  see  it,  they  must  be  blinded 
with  Folly  not  many  Degrees  above  Idiotism.  When 
Herod  made  a  Speech,  and  was  applauded  as  a  God,  his 
Crime  was,  not  the  applauding  him  in  that  Manner  ;  bi..t 
his  absurd  Pride,  in  accepting  the  Surfeiting  Praise. 
Alexander  the  Great,  'tis  said,  had  the  Folly  secretly  to 
Avish  to  be  flattered,  and  yet  he  with  Diligence  endeav- 
oured to  shun  its  being  known.  That  was  his  Prudence.' 
Some  of  the  Roman  Emperors,  the  most  Brutal  of  them, 
did  openly  covet  it  ;  but  Augustus,  Vespasian,  Titus, 
and  all  the  wisest  of  them,  took  the  offer  of  it  to  be  cast- 
ing the  iitmost  Contempt  upon  them,  and  therefore  re- 
jcted  it." 

"  Concluding  then,  that  the  extravagant  Elevations  and 
Raptures, — in  compliment  to  the  personal  Virtues  of 
great  Men,  who  understand  nothing  of  Virtue  in  Prac- 
tice,— must  be  allowed  to  bo  the  keenest  Satyr  that  can 
be  written  ; — why  should  not  I  try  to  abuse  some  honest 
great  Man  or  other  that  Way?  Suppose  I  should  write  a 
Pancgyrick  upon  Modesty,  and  dedicate  it  to  her  Excel- 
lency, Madam,  the  Countess  de  Sally  Salishury  f  Would 
it  not  do  very  well  ?  Or  another  upon  Frugality,  and 
Inscribe  it  to  his  Grace  of  [WJiarton]^  and  his  Grace  of 
[Ormon(l\^  or  any  other  Man  of  Fortune,  who  may  have 
Glass  Windows,  thro'  their  great  Estates  almost  as  soon 
as  they  were  of  Age  to  possess  them?  Would  not  those 
be  taken  for  Satyr  ? 

"  Suppose  I  was  to  write  a  Book  in  Praise  of  Honesty, 
and  Dedicate  it  to  Sir  Q[on slant ine\  Y^[hipps\,  or  in  Praise  of 
Generosity,  and  Present  it  to  a  Lord  Mayor ;  perhaps 
these  great  Men  might  be  affronted  at  me,  and  take  it  for 
Satyr  upon  them. 

"  If  I  should  write  in  Recommendation  of  Voluminous, 
and  Contentious  Writing,  and  send  it  in  a  Penny  Post 
Letter  to  a  certain  dignified  QU^jw]  man,  or  Praise  con- 

'  Note  the  emphasis  ijlaced  in  all  of  these  writings  upon  the  word 
"  prudence."  Bacon  sa3's  :  "  And  surely  1  do  best  allow  of  a  division 
of  that  kind,  though  in  more  familiar  and  scholastic  terms  ;  namely, 
that  these  be  the  two  parts  of  natural  philosophy, — the  Imjuisilion 
of  causes,  and  the  Production  of  effects  ;  Speculative,  and  Opera- 
tive ;  Natural  Science,  and  Natural  Prudence."  See  Phil.  Works, 
vol.  iii.,  p.  851. 

'^  We  remember  to  have  seen  these  identical  views  expressed  by 
Bacon,  though  we  are  not  now  able  to  give  the  reference. 


493  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

founding  of  Principles  with  Contraries  in  Practice,  What 
would  this  Dignifiedship  say  to  me? 

"  In  a  word,  I  am  convinced,  Mr.  App,  this  will  do  it. 
Prohatum  est.  True  Briton,  No.  1629.  From  hence- 
forward then  expect — when  I  write  in  Praise, — when  I 
swell  in  Panegyrick, — it  is  all  Satyr,  and  done  to  abuse 
my  Superior  ;  according  to  the  laudable  Example  of  all 
the  Model  Journals  and  publick  Prints,  that  have  gone 
before  me, — Sir  Dick,  as  well  as  the  Duke. 

"  In  the  first  Pkice  then,  I  think  to  write  a  long  En- 
comium upon  the  York  Buildings^  Lottery ;  wherein  I 
shall  applaud  the  Equity  of  drawing  Lotteries  before  they 
are  full, — the  goodness  of  Bubble  Security, — the  Certainty 
of  having  Prizes, — and  the  Uncertainty  of  having  them 
paid  ;  with  a  great  Variety  of  excellent  Observations  in 
praise  of  the  excellent  Art  of  managing  Mankind,  by 
Figures  and  great  Numbers. 

"  I  thoiight  to  have  sent  you  an  admirable  Poem  upon 
the  late  Harburyli  Lottery,"^  adorned  with  some  Characters 
of  Persons,  whereby  the  Injustice  done  those  honest  woi- 
thy  Gentlemen,  might  perhaps  have  aj)peared  to  have  been 
greater  or  less  than  themselves  imagine  ;  but  in  Charity 
I  forbear  Treading  on  the  Vanquished. 

"  I  have  abundance  of  Panegyrick^  by  me,  which  would 
much  exalt  the  Honour  and  Glory  of  our  Nation,  and 
show  us  what  abundance  of  Heroes  we  are  like  to  raise, 
without  a  War,  more  than  ever  rose  by  the  Glory  of  the 
Field  ;  and  how  many  brave  Officers  die  annually  in  the 
Bed  of  Honour,  Drury  Lane,  more  than  ever  did  in  a 
Campaign  in  Flanders  or  at  a  Hochstet,  and  a  Ramillies. 

"In  a  Word,  Mr.  Ap)p,  I  can  never  want  Subject  of 
Panegyrick,  if  Panegyrick  may  but  pass  for  Satyr :     So 

'  Let  the  reader  here  and  in  later  articles  keep  his  eye  a  little 
upon  the  words  "  York  Buildings,"  as  we  shall  claim  them  to  be 
allusions  to  Bacon's  cherished  York  House  residence,  and  which 
went  into  the  hands  of  the  Treasurer  Cranfield,  as  mentioned  in 
earlier  pages. 

■^  See  Bacon's  allusion  to  the  Dutch  in  his  letter  to  King  James, 
quoted  in  a  recent  note,  p.  480,  and  see  p.  475. 

2  Bacon  says  :  "  And  because  this  is  no  part  of  a  panegyric,  but 
mere  story,  aud  that  they  be  so  many  articles  of  honour  tit  to  be 
recorded,  I  will  only  mention  them  ;  extracting  part  of  them  out  of 
that  you  Mr.  Speaker  have  said."  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii., 
p.  175.) 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  493 

yon  may  expect  for  the  future  I  shall  be  very  Civil 
(Siiucv)  to  my  Superiors.  Yours  &c."  (Lee.  vol.  iii., 
p.  204.)  . 

Our  next  is  a  political  article  on  divers  sorts  of  winds, 
and  bears  date  December  21st,  1723,  and  is  as  follows  : 

"  y1.  /.,  Dec.  21.— Sir,  I  thonghb  to  have  refined  a 
little  upon  the  Philosophy  of  the  Winds,  and  the  strange 
Effects  which  thev  have  upon  the  Surface  of  this  Globe, 
as  well  on  the  Solid  as  on  the  Fluid  ;  and  to  have  taken 
the  rise  of  my  Hypothesis  from  the  late  Storms,  which 
have  been  so  Furious  and  done  so  much  Damage  to  our 
Shipping,  as  well  as  to  our  Buildings.  But  this  is  so 
ordinary  a  Subject,  or  at  least  offers  itself  so  frequently  to 
our  Observation,  that  having  so  much  more  Material  a 
Subject  in  my  View,  I  have  thought  fit  to  adjourn  it  till 
the  next  great  Storm,  which  upon  consulting  my  private 
Barometer,  I  foretell  will  not  happen  till  the  middle  of 
February ;  and  that  thence,  to  the  vernal  Equinox,  you 
will  have  some  Occasion  to  put  me  in  Mind  of  it  again. 

"  1  might  also  have  Dilated  my  Eloquence  here  upon 
the  natural  Reasons,  Why  Kings  should  be  Windbound  at 
Sea  !  And  why  Monarchs,  who  can  turn  the  Winds  of 
Faction  and  Rebellion,  this  Way  or  that  Way,  as  they 
please,  should  not  be  able  to  stem  the  Torrent  of  Wind  at 
Sea.  (For  Air  being  a  convertible  Element,  may  be  aptly 
enough  styled  a  Torrent,  as  well  as  when  it  is  condensed 
into  AVater.)  But  I  shall  take  an  Occasion  to  talk  of  this 
another  Time.' 

"  I  desire  to  speak  of  Winds  now  under  another  kind 
of  Explication,  namely,  as  they  are  Politically,  Nationally, 
and  Ridiculously  considered.     For  Example  ; — 

"  When  a  poor  Author  or  Printer  comes  under  the 
Oppression  of  a  Messenger  from   his   Superiors,  and   is 

'  Bacon's  views  as  to  the  winds  have  been  somewhat  considered  in 
earlier  pages.     See  pp.  48-53,     Touching  his  belief  as  to  wind  im- 
prisoned within  the  earth,  we  give  the  further  example  from  Henry 
IV.,  part  1.,  Act  iii.,  sc.  1,  p.  229,  as  follows  : 
"  Diseased  nature  oftentimes  breaks  forth 
In  strange  eruptions  :  oft  the  teeming  earth 
Is  with  a  kind  of  colic  piuch'd  and  vex'd 
Bv  the  imprisoning  of  unruly  wind 
Within  her  womb  ;  which,  for  enlargement  striving, 
Sliakes  the  old  beldame  earth,  and  topples  down 
Steeples,  and  moss-grown  towers." 


494  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

unhappily  sent  for  to  answer,  for  this  or  that  Boldness  of 
Expression,  or  for  giving  Offence  to  this  or  that  Ambas- 
sador, and  the  like  ;  'tis  an  ordinary  Thing  to  say,  he  has 
had  a  STORM  njjon  him/ 

"  "When  a  poor  Tradesman  Fails,  turns  Insolvent,  and 
Calls  his  Creditors  together,  'tis  Ordinary  to  say  ho  is 
under  a  Cloud  ;  and  when  the  Cloiid  breaks  upon  him  in 
a  Commission  of  Bankrupt,  'tis  fairly  represented  by  a 
Tliunder-Clap.  Upon  the  whole  we  say  he  is  Blasted,  'tis 
a  Blast  upon  his  Credit  ;  all  which  particulars  are  Stormy 
Things  in  the  main,  and  have  some  Place  in  the  Doctrine 
of  Winds,  as  now  under  Consideration. 

*'  There  are  divers  Sorts  of  Winds  too  that  blow  among 
us,  besides  those  at  Sea  ;  as  particularly,  there  are  some- 
times hard  Gales,  which  blow  from  a  Parliamentary  Quar- 
ter, such  was  the  Blast  from  a  certain  Corner,  upon  the 
late  South- Sea  Men,  the  Ilamluryli  Lottery  Men,  and 
others, — which  blew  a  great  many  of  them  quite  out  of 
the  House,  and  well  they  deserved  it  indeed,  especially 
the  Latter, — whom  some  think  should  have  been  blown  to 
the  Gallows,  ■ 

"  There  have  been  several  Times  strong  Gusts  (and 
Disgusts)  about  the  Courts  of  our  Monarchs.  These  have 
overset  many  a  Favourite,  before  they  had  been  able  to 
set  their  Sails  to  it;  for  (N.B.)  Favourites  generally 
are  so  Nimble  in  shifting  their  Sails,  that  they  caoi  Sail 
with  any  Wind ;  and  'tis  not  easy  for  the  Storm  to  hloio 
too  hard  for  them.  Sometimes  also  there  is  an  ugly 
Squally  Wind,  which  rises  out  of  the  Monarch's  reach, 
and  Blows  now  from  this  Quarter,  now  from  that,  and 
Oversets,  not  the  Favourite  only,  but  the  Favourer  too. 
This  Wind  is  called  a  Country  'Gale  ;  'tis  worse  than  the 
AVind  Euroclydon,  which  we  read  of,  that  Ship-wrecked 
St.  Paul;  'tis  generally,  I  say,  a  Country  Gale,  and 
whenever  it  blows  hard,  it  makes  the  Court  a  Lee-Shore, 
that  is  to  say,  it  makes  foul  Weather  at  Court. 

"This  Country  Gale  when  it  overblows,^  has  divers 
Names  too,  like  the  Winds  at  Sea.  When  the  Wind 
freshens  at  Sea,  'tis  first  called  blowing  hard  ;  then  a 
Fret  of  Wind  ;  then  a  Storm  ;  then  a  Tempest ;  and  in 

'  Sec  p.  803,  and  see  Bacon's  Literary  Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  176. 
"In  Tiie  Tempest,  Act  ii.,  sc.  2,  p.  60,  we  have:  "I  liopc  now 
thou  art  not  drowu'd.     Is  the  storm  overblown  V" 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  "495 

some  Countries  'tis  called  a  Hurricane.  So  these  Country 
Gales  go  under  divers  Denominations,  If  they  blow  in 
the  ordinary  Manner,  'tis  called,  as  above,  a  Country 
Gale;  if  it  increases,  'tis  called  a  Party  Gust,  then  a 
Faction  ;  then  popular  Heat,  after  that,  Fury,  Rage,  and 
sometimes  at  last,  it  comes  up  to  Insurrection,  and  Revo- 
lution. We  have  seen  all  these  Winds  blow  in  England 
some  Years  ago.  But  of  late,  blessed  be  our  Fate  !  we 
have  had  good  calm  Weather  at  Court,  and  'tis  hoped  it 
may  continue  so,  whatever  some  True  Britons  may  hope 
to  the  Contrary. 

"  But  to  leave  these  dangerous  Corners,  we  have  other 
Winds  in  England,  which  like  Summer  are  refreshing, 
comfortable  and  cooling  ;  these  we  call  Court  Breezes, 
and  when  they  come  kindly,  and  in  the  ordinary  legal 
Course,  they  bring  in  very  Seasonable  Weather  with  them 
on  that  Side.  To  some  they  Dispense  fruitful  Pensions, 
plentiful  Crops  and  large  Harvests  ;  according  as  they  are 
skilfully  improved  by  the  Persons  who  receive  them  from  the 
Sovereign's  Favour  ; — do  Good  or  Evil,  according  to  the 
Merit  of  the  Persons,  as  Corn  sowed  produces  a  good  or  ill 
Crop,  according  to  the  goodness  of  the  Soil.^ 

"  Just  and  wise  Governments  have  always  endeavoured 
to  distinguish  Right  in  the  Dispensing  their  Favours, 
and  cause  this  Wind  to  blow  as  best  serves  the  Interest  of 
their  Kingdoms  and  Countries.  Tyrants  and  Designing 
Princes  blow  hot  and  cold,  this  Way,  and  that  AVay,  as 

'  Bacon  says  :  "  But  those  also  who  are  uaturally  of  greater  hon- 
esty and  principle,  when  they  tind  no  safeguard  in  their  innocence 
(tlie  prince  not  being  able  to  distinguish  truth  from  falsehood), 
throw  oil  their  honesty,  and  catching  the  court  breezes  allow  them- 
selves to  be  carried  where  they  blow."  (De  Augmentis,  ch.  2. 
Book  8.)  In  the  same  chapter  he  also  says:  "Those  again,  of 
better  principles  and  dispositions,  after  linding  little  security  in  tlieir 
innocence,  their  master  not  knowing  how  to  distinguish  truth  from 
falsehood,  drop  their  moral  honesty,  go  into  the  eddy  winds  of  the 
court,  and  servilely  submit  to  be  carried  about  with  tliem."  _ 

'  This  expression,  "  goodness  of  the  soil,"  may  be  found  in  many 
places  in  Bacon's  Natural  History.  And  let  the  word  "  goodness" 
in  both  its  material  and  mental  sense  be  noted  throughout.  In  his 
Essay  entitled  "  Of  Goodness  and  Goodness  of  Nature,"  he  says  : 
"  I  take  Goodness  in  this  sense,  the  affecting  of  the  weal  of  men, 
which  is  that  the  Grecians  call  Philanthrapia ;  and  the  word 
humanity  (as  it  is  used)  is  a  little  too  light  to  express  ic.  Goodness 
I  call  the  habit,  and  Goodness  of  Nature  the  inclination." 


496  THKEAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.   ' 

their  secret  Designs  guide  them  ;  and  that  is  the  Eeason 
we  find  their  Subjects  comphiining  of  Oppression,  Injus- 
tice, breach  of  Constitution,  and  the  like.  These  are 
Storms  and  Tempests  in  their  kind  ;  and  of  these  I  have 
much  to  say  in  a  convenient  Season,  but  not  now.  Thank 
Heaven  we  live  under  a  Reign,  where  there  is  a  perfect 
Calm,  the  Court  Breezes  are  all  Sanative  and  Wholesome  ; 
wisely  suited  to  the  good  of  the  whole  Country  ;  the 
Monarch  Dispenses  his  Favours  with  Justice,  and  his 
Justice  with  Clemency,  Merit  commands  Respect,  and  Men 
of  Worth  have  always  a  favourable  Gale  blowing  upon  them. 

"  I  shall  set  forth  the  Advantages  of  such  a  fair  Wind 
in  its  due  Time  ;  in  the  mean  time  I  must  enter  in  my 
next  upon  the  ill  consequences  of  those  unhappy  Things 
in  a  Government,  call'd,  contrary  Winds.  But  I  must 
defer  it,  I  say,  till  my  next."     (Lee,  vol.  iii.,  p.  216.) 

We  next  give  place  to  an  article  dated  February  15th, 
1724,  touching  some  juggling  with  the  King  of  Spain. 

"■A.  J.,  Feb.  15. — Sir",  We  have  had  so  many  Specula- 
tions at  Work,  and  so  many  Calculators  of  Times  and 
Seasons  upon  this  new  Revolution  in  Spain;  that  I  can- 
not but  think  the  King  of  Spain  has  made  more  Work  for 
the  Sooth-sayers,  than  ever  Pliaraoli  King  of  Egypt,  or 
Nehucliadiiezzar  King  of  Babylon  did. 

"  I  must  own,  in  my  Opinion  the  Reasons,  which  they 
say  the  King  of  Spain  has  given  for  his  laying  down  the 
Royal  Dignity,  are  the  Weakest,  not  to  say  the  Foolishest, 
that  ever  I  met  with  in  History.  AVhen  his  great  Pred- 
ecessor Cliarles  the  5th  abdicated,  and  gave  up  the  Im- 
perial Crown  to  his  second  Son  Ferdinand,  and  the  Crown 
of  Spain  to  his  Eldest  Son  Philip  II.,  among  other 
Reasons  he  gave  for  it,  These  were  some,  (viz.)  That  he 
was  weakened  by  Age,  worn  out  ivith  Cares,  and  many 
Fatigues,  and  reduced  to  an  infirm  State  of  Body,  by  a 
declining  Health,  and  Distempers  growing  Daily  upon 
him  ;  so  that  he  was  unable  to  undergo  the  Burthen  of 
the  Government,  and  the  Weight  of  so  many  Crowns. 
These  Things  had  some  Consideration  due  to  them.  It 
was  Time  for  him  to  apply,  if  ever,  with  more  than 
ordinary  Seriousness  to  the  Thoughts  of  another  Life. 
He  had  one  Foot  in  the  Grave.  He  was  loaden  with 
Honour  and  with  Years,  and  indeed  lived  but  a  little 
While  after  it. 


TflREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  497 

"  On  the  other  hand,  here  is  a  young  Monarch,  not  yet 
forty  Years  Old,  that  has  had  no  Fatigues  to  go  through, 
never  went  out  of  his  Kingdom,  but  once  into  Italy,  that 
has  had  always  the  Administration  of  his  Affairs  in  the 
Hands  of  his  Ministry,  and  the  Care  of  Government  as 
much  taken  off  his  Hand  too  as  he  pleased  ;  and  yet  he 
lays  down  his  Government,  and  obliges  a  Young  and 
Beautiful  Queen  to  do  the  like.  Divesting  themselves  of 
all  the  Pleasure  and  Grandeur  of  a  Court,  and  the  Majesty 
and  Glory  of  a  Crown,  and  turning  recluse  ;  contrary  to 
the  common  Principles  of  Nature,  and  to  all  that  we  can 
Account  for  in  Human  Eeasoning. 

"  The  Keasons  his  Majesty  gives  for  all  this, — so  far 
as  we  have  them  handed  down  to  us — are,  that  he  may 
give  up  himself  to  meditate  on  Death,  and  to  seek  his 
Salvation. 

''  Now  if  these  are  really  the  true  Eeasons,  I  must  con- 
fess, to  me,  they  are  very  weak  ones  ;  and  this  makes  me 
say,  the  Doubts  which  some  People  have  of  the  Sincerity 
of  those  Appearances  seem  also  to  me,  to  have  better 
Grounds  than  ordinary. 

"  Nor  let  any  one  suggest  that  it  is  Maltreating  the 
King  of  S^^mi  to  say  those  Eeasons  are  weak  ;  on  the 
contrary,  I  think  they  are  a  Testimony  of  an  uncommon 
Eespect  for  the  King  of  Spain,  and  that  I  have  a  great 
Veneration  for  his  Judgment,  and  for  his  Experience  of 
human  Affairs,  and  therefore  cannot  readily  come  into  the 
Belief  of  his  quitting  the  Crown,  on  Account  of  Two 
Things,  which  he  might  as  certainly,  and  effectually  have 
looked  after  with  the  Crown  upon  his  Head,  as  he  can 
without  it  :  or  else,  all  the  Kings  in  Uurope  are  but  in  a 
very  ordinary  Condition,  as  to  the  World  to  come. 

"  If  the  Weight  of  the  Crown  was  too  heavy  for  his 
Head,'  or  there  was  some  ungodly  Thing  necessary  to  be 
done  by  a  King  of  Spain,  which  other  Kings  are  not 
obliged  to  ;  these  indeed  are  Cases  by  themselves,  but  we 
do  not  see  any  Ground  for  either  of  them.  King  Philip 
had  worn  the  Crown  about  Three  and  Twenty  ^ ears  ;  and, 
in  all  that  time.  History  does  not  charge  him  with  any 

'  Bacon  ia  his  Essay  entitled  "  An  Essay  of  a  King"  says  :  "  A 
King  that  would  not  feel  his  Crown  too  heavy  for  him,  must  wear 
it  every  day,  but  if  he  thiiils  it  too  light,  he  knoweth  not  of  what 
metal  it  is  made." 


498  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

Thing  so  much  out  of  the  Way,  as  to  make  us  thiuk  he 
was  very  unfit  to  Keign.  We  do  not  hear  liis  Majesty 
charged  with  Idiotism,  or  gross  AVeakness  ;  and,  as  to  tlie 
Crown  of  Spain,  I  will  not  insinuate  that  a  King  cannot 
wear  it  with  as  safe  a  Conscience,  as  other  Kings  wear 
their  Crowns.  So  that  'tis  very  odd,  the  King  should  not 
be  able  to  think  of  Death,  and  seek  his  Salvation,  without 
relinquishing  his  Crown. 

"  Now  if  the  Crown  of  Spain  is  no  more  liable  to  these 
Negatives  than  other  Crowns,  What  must  we  say  of  all  the 
Kings  of  Europe,  who  occupy  the  State  of  Glory  in  their 
Degrees?  Hard  is  the  Fate  of  Crowned  Heads,  if  they 
cannot  apply  themselves  to  the  Things  of  another  AVorld, 
and  that  with  the  greatest  Seriousness  and  Diligence, 
without  giving  up  their  Crowns. 

"  Dedicating  to  God  is  another  Word  used  for  this  Abdi- 
cation. Now  I  can  by  no  means  believe  but  that  a  King 
Dedicating  the  Power,  which  he  is  invested  with  by  his 
administration,  effectually  to  the  Service  and  Glory  of 
God,  is  able  to  Honour  his  Creator  much  more,  and  it  is 
a  much  better  Dedication  of  himself  to  God,  than  any  he 
could  be  capable  of  in  a  private  retired  Capacity.  If  this 
is  not  Granted  I  am  ready  to  support  it  with  good  Argu- 
ments, drawn  from  both  Reason  and  Religion. 

"  But  on  the  other  Hand,  if  it  is  granted,  as  it  must 
be,  then  the  King  of  Spniti  laying  down  his  Royal  Dig- 
nity, and  Divesting  himself  of  his  Royal  Authority,  to 
Dedicate  himself  to  God  ;  is  a  kind  of  Religious  incon- 
sistency, to  say  no  worse  of  it.  As  to  there  being  a  Juggle 
in  it  at  the  Bottom  and  that  the  Design  looks  at  another 
Crown,  tluit  I  have  nothing  to  say  to  just  now  ;  but  in 
Favour  of  all  the  rest  of  the  Monarchs  of  the  Christian 
World,  I  must  be  allowed  to  say,  a  King  may  certainly 
be  a  Christian,  with  the  Crown  upon  his  Head,  as  well  as 
in  a  Monastery,  or  other  Retreat  ;  and  may  give  himself 
a  due  Latitude  of  Time  to  Meditate  upon  Death,  and  seek 
his  Salvation,  notwithstanding  the  Cares  of  Government, 
and  the  AVeight  of  Administration.  Nay,  if  they  would, 
as  above,  apply  themselves  to  Administer  their  Affairs,  in 
the  Fear  and  to  the  Glory  of  God,  it  might  be  for  aught 
I  know  the  best  way  of  seeking  their  Salvation  that  they 
could  possibly  fall  into.  From  whence  I  must  infer,  that 
either  the  King  of  Spain  has  been  very  much  imposed 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYEINTH.  499 

upon,  or  there  must  be  more  in  it,  than  Ave  yet  hear  of." 
(Lee,  vol.  iii.,  p.  232.) 

AVe  have  at  p.  234  expressed  an  intention  of  calling 
Bacon's  charge  in  the  Owen  case  into  relation  Avith  some 
of  tliese  Defoe  articles,  but  find  that  space  Avill  not  permit. 

We  here  submit  to  the  reader  the  question  as  to  Avhether 
the  abdication  alluded  to  in  the  foregoing  article  Avas 
some  rumored  resignation  of  Philip  the  Third  during  the 
Baconian  period,  or  the  actual  resignation  of  Philip  the 
Fifth  during  the  Defoe  period.  Note  the  allusion  here 
made  to  the  age  and  Avife  of  Philip,  and  Avliich  Avas  true 
as  to  Philip  the  Third,  but  not  as  to  Philip  the  Fifth. 
LikeAvise  Philip  the  Fifth  actiially  resigned  the  croAvn,  and 
on  account,  as  history  tells  us,  of  a  profound  melancholy. 
In  Avhat  sense,  then,  "  a  juggle"  for  another  crown  ?  Was 
the  fear  here  manifested  the  fear  that  Spain  was  juggling 
with  James  or  Buckingham  beyond  the  question  of  the 
marriage  of  Prince  Charles  with  the  Infanta?  AVas  it  the 
fear  that  the  two  crowns  were  to  cojne  under  one  liat,  as 
represented  in  the  play  of  The  Tempest  ?  The  occasion 
of  fear  from  Spain  in  the  Baconian  period  may  be  further 
seen  in  the  Britannica  article  on  Spain,  vol.  xxii,,  j)p. 
330  and  33>,  and  from  which  we  quote  the  folloAving  : 

"  The  accession  of  James  I.  in  England  gave  a  con- 
venient opportunity  for  concluding  the  long  war  that  had 
been  carried  on  with  Elizabeth.  English  mediation 
brought  about  a  tAvelve  years'  truce  in  1609  with  the 
United  Provinces,  Avhich  amounted  to  a  practical  recog- 
nition of  their  independence.  The  death  of  Henry  the 
lA''.  and  the  regency  of  Mary  de'  Medici  enabled  Lerma  to 
arrange  an  alliance  Avith  France,  which  was  cemented  by 
a  double  marriage.  Louis  XIII.  married  the  Infanta 
Anne  of  Austria,  and  Elizabeth  of  France  was  betrothed 
to  the  sou  and  heir  of  Philip  III.  For  the  moment  Spain 
occupied  a  higher  position  in  Europe  than  it  had  held 
since  the  defeat  of  the  A.rmada.  James  I.  was  weakened 
by  quarrels  Avith  his  Parliament  and  by  the  want  of  a 
definite  policy.  France  under  the  regency  had  abandoned 
the  attitude  of  Henry  IV.  and  Avas  distracted  by  internal 
squabbles.  The  empire  was  in  the  feeble  hands  of  Mathias, 
and  the  Austrian  Hapsburgs  were  still  divided  by  the 
family  jealousies  that  had  arisen  from  the  deposition  of 
Rudolph  II,     The  Turks  had  declined  since  the  days  of 


500  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

Soliman  the  Magnificent  with  a  rapidity  characteristic  of 
Oriental  powers.  In  the  midst  of  these  states  Spain,  sub- 
ject to  an  apparently  absolute  monarchy,  enjoyed  mucii 
the  same  prestige  as  in  the  best  days  of  Philip  II.  With 
the  consciousness  of  power  the  old  ambitions  revived.  An 
arrangement  was  being  discussed  for  the  recognition  of 
the  Archduke  Ferdinand  as  the  successor  of  Mathias  in 
the  Austrian  territories.  Philip  III.,  however,  advanced 
a  claim  to  Hungary  and  Bohemia  on  the  ground  that  his 
mother  was  a  daughter  of  Maximillian  II.,  whereas  Ferdi- 
nand was  only  descended  from  that  emperor's  brother. 
The  claim  was  by  no  means  indisputable,  but  it  was  incon- 
venient to  Ferdinand  to  have  to  discuss  it.'  He  agreed 
therefore  to  purchase  the  support  of  Spain  by  ceding 
Alsace,  and  the  vacant  imperial  fief  of  Finale  in  Italy 
(1G17),  and  on  these  terms  he  succeeded  in  efliecting  his 
designs.  Thus  a  prospect  was  opened  to  Spain  of  con- 
necting its  Italian  possessions  with  the  Netherlands  and  of 
forming  a  compact  Spanish  dominion  in  central  Euro})e. 
At  the  same  time  the  old  policy  of  advancing  Roman 
Catholicism  was  resumed,  as  the  success  of  Ferdinand 
promised  to  secure  a  signal  victory  for  the  Counter-Refor- 
mation in  Grermany.  But  this  forward  policy  was  dis- 
tasteful to  Lerraa,  who  found  it  necessary  to  retire  in 
1618." 

Bacon's  fears  as  to  the  Spanish  monarchy  we  have  some- 
what recounted,  and  some  later,  and  in  1G24,  he  says  : 
*'  Is  it  nothing,  that  the  crown  of  Spain  hath  enlarged  the 
bounds  thereof  within  these  last  six  score  years  mucli  more 
than  the  Ottomans?  I  speak  not  of  matches  or  unions,  but 
of  arms,  occupations,  invasions.  Granada,  Naples,  Milan, 
Portugal,  the  East  and  West  Indies  ;  all  these  are  actual 
additions  to  that  crown  and  in  possession.  They  had  a 
great  mind  to  French  Britaine,  the  lower  part  of  Picardy, 
and  Piedmont  ;  but  they  have  let  fall  their  bit.  They 
have,  at  this  day,  such  a  hovering  possession  of  the  Valto- 
line,  as  an  hobby  hath  over  a  lark  :  and  the  Palatinate  is 
in  their  talons  :  so  that  nothing  is  more  manifest,  than 

'  We  have  had  some  thoughts  as  to  whether  the  play  of  The  Tem- 
pest may  have  centred  in  these  actors  in  the  foremost  features  of 
European  politics,  in  a  general  sense,  instead  of  in  a  mere  special 
sense  as  applied  to  England,  but  have  not  seen  reasons  for  changing 
our  views. 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRUSTTH.  501 

that  this  nation  of  Spain  runs  a  race  (still)  of  empire, 
when  all  other  States  of  Christendom  stand  in  effect  at  a 
stay."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  479.) 

From  the  several  articles  relating  to  the  York  Buildings 
we  give  place  to  one,  under  date  September  30th,  1731, 
as  follows  : 

"  A.  J.,  Sept.  30. — Sir,  We  have  an  old  English  Proverb 
very  significant  in  itself,  and  verify'd  often  by  Practice, 
Give  the  Loser  leave  to  speak.^  In  right  of  this  Proverb 
or  Custom,  we  have  given  our  Passions  vent  a  great  while, 
and  have  rail'd  most  plentifully  at  the  Law  Managers  of 
the  South  Sea  Stock,  and  particularly  at  the  Directors  by 
Name. 

"  Not  content  with  that,  we  have,  speaking  nationally, 
brought  them  to  Justice,  and  tiiey  stand  as  some  call  it, 
attainted  in  Parliament  :  their  Estates  are  confiscated, 
their  Persons  disabled,  and  tlie  like. 

"  But  that  which  very  much  surprizes  me  (and  indeed 
the  Assurance  of  it  is  surprizing),  is  to  hear,  not  the 
Losers,  but  the  Winners  rail.  To  hear  Men  open  against 
the  Scheme  who  were  deepest  ingulph'd  in  the  Crime  of 
it  ;  nay  who, — if  we  may  believe  all  the  Evidence  that  has 
convinc'd  a  Parliament, — were  Guilty,  even  of  the  very 
Machination,  the  original  Plot,  and  the  first  thought  of 
it.  'Tis  a  merrys  Story  to  hear  these  Men  open  against 
the  South  Sea  Company,  against  the  Directors,  against 
Mr.  Knight,  against  the  Brokers,  and  against  every  Body 
that  had  a  share  in  carrying  it  on. 

"  Some  are  condemn'd  and  censur'd  in  Parliament  for 
infamous  Corruption,  and  for  being  concern'd  therein 
with  those  who  are  censur'd  with  them  in  the  same  Bill  ; 
and  yet  they  are  the  Men  who,  with  a  particular  Rage,  are 
the  first  to  fall  foul  upon  the  Directors,  no  Men  more. 

"  Tins,  Sir,  has  been  so  far  from  giving  us  in  the  Coun- 

'  Promus,  973.     Always  let  losers  have  their  words. 

'  This  word  "  merry"  is  an  everywhere  used  word  in  these  writ- 
ings. Promus,  471.  Good  to  be  merry  and  wise.  Promus,  494. 
Better  are  meals  many  than  one  to  merry."  Bacon  says  :  "  Your 
Grace  will  give  me  leave  to  be  merry,  however  the  world  goeth  with 
me."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  538.)    And  see  pp.  72  and  342. 

^  This  sentence,  either  designedly  or  otherwise,  is  a  little  peculiar. 
Some  were  sentenced  for  infamous  corruption,  and,  and  what  ?  Why, 
for  being  concerned  with  those  who  were  censured,  wath  them,  in  the 
same  bill. 


502  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

try  an  Idea  of  those  People's  Honesty  or  Ignorance,  that, 
on  the  contrary,  it  gives  us  a  Sketch  of  inimitable  Con- 
fidence and  Assurance,  1  had  almost  call'd  it  Impudence  ; 
likewise  it  convinces  us  of  the  Rectitude  of  Parliamentary 
Justice,  and  the  Necessity  there  has  been  of  consolidating 
some  Men's  Case  with  the  Directors.  Nay  indeed,  we 
think  the  Parliament  had  done  well  to  have  begun  with 
these  Men,  and  have  made  Examples  of  them  first  ;  and 
then  perhaps  we  had  not  had  such  Complaints  made  of 
Skreens,  and  of  Skreening  the  guilty  People  from  the  Pub- 
lick  Resentment. 

"  Had  these  Men  been  laid  hold  of  before  Mr.  Knight' 
had  fled,  and  had  that  Time  been  spent  in  the  Enquiry 
after  the  Head  of  the  Mischief,  before  we  began  to  take 
hold  of  the  lesser  Thieves  ;  perhai:»s  there  would  have  been 
Cause  given  to  have  secur'd  Mr.  Knight,  and  have  fast- 
en'd  him  down,  that  he  might  not  have  had  Time  to  move 
off  ;  and  then,  the  green  Book  would  liave  been  perhaj^s 
discover'd  also,  and  many  a  Truth  have  been  discover'd, 
that  now  we  can  only  guess  at. 

"  But  for  want  of  this  Discovery,  we  find  them  not  only 
insisting  upon  their  Innocence,  and  appealing,  as  I  told 
you  last  Week,  to  the  People  ;  but  grown  loud  in  their 
quarrelling  at  Public  Justice  ;  and,  in  their  Turn,  casting 
Dirt  upon  their  Fellow  Criminals,  and  upon  others  also. 

"  Is  it  not  an  unaccountable  Stock  that  these  Persons 
are  arriv'd  to?  That  they  should,  at  this  Time  of  Day, 
fall  upon  the  other  Schemes  and  Projects, — such  as  the 
Assurances,  and  York-Buildings, — when  they  at  the  same 
Time  assisted  in  that  great  Scheme,  of  which  these  were 
only  the  Seconds,  and  to  which  they  were  really  as  noth- 
ing ?  That  they  should  charge  these  with  a  Crime  in 
raising  the  Value  of  their  Stocks,  and  making  Offers  to 
the  Advantage  of  the  Grovernment,  when  they  were  in  the 
great  Cheat  of  all  ?  AVhere  a  Bargain  was  made  with  the 
Government,  which  'tis  api^arent  now  they  cannot  per- 
form, and  on  the  Chimera  of  which,  such  immense  Sums 

'Is  (his  word  "knight"  an  interpolation?  Or  is  it  the  dark 
horse  for  Sir  Giles  Mompesson,  with  whom  Bacon  had  conference 
touching  matters  of  the  Treasury,  and  who  witli  his  papers  made 
his  escape  and  fled  from  England  at  the  commencement  of  the  in- 
vestigation which  was  brought  to  a  close  by  Bacon's  overthrow  ? 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  503 

were  advanc'd,  as  in  the  Disappointment  must  necessarily 
sliock  the  whole  Nation  ? 

"  That  they  should  reproach  particular  Men  for  espous- 
ing those  Things  which  they  call'd  Bubbles,  when  they 
themselves,  in  a  very  particular  Manner,  espoused  the 
great  Cheat  of  advanced  Subscriptions  to  such  a  Degree, 
as  to  give  in  Lists  of  vast  Sums  to  those  Subscriptions, 
and  that  at  a  Eate  which  they  knew  could  never  be  com- 
ply'd  with. 

"  Give  me  leave  to  tell  you,  that  'tis  our  Opinion  here, 
that  these  Men  have  been  the  Chief  Agents  of  the  Na- 
tion's Misfortunes  ;  the  Supporters,  the  Encouragers,  and 
the  Grand  Confederates  in  the  whole  South  Sea  Disaster. 
If  some  Body  else  has  been  as  the  Spencer"^  of  old  Time, 
they  have  been  the  Gavestons,  a  name  equally  odious  ; 
and  together,  they  make  us  all  Honour  and  Reverence  the 
late  Revolution  in  Parliament,  as  the  general  Voice  of  the 
whole  People  of  England,  (viz.)  That  they  have  been 
Guilty  of  most  Infamous  and  Dangerous  Corrup- 
tion.    Yours,  etc.,  N.  B. 

"  N.B.  You  m.ay  inform  your  Readers  that  a  New- 
Opera  is  design'd  shortly  to  be  presented  to  the  Town, 
and  to  be  acted  by  a  Company  of  Comedians  coming  over 
from  Brussels.  This  famous  new  Opera  will  be  call'd 
Cacapismas  or  the  History  of  the  two  Craggs's. 

"  Their  hungry  Projectors  have  been  our  Directors, 

And  with  Bites  and  with  Bubbles  have  Schem'd  us  ; 
Their  Qaveston  and  Spencer  have  got  our  Pence,  Sir, 
And  Gmggs,^  the  old  Barber,  has  trim'd  us." 

(Lee,  vol.  ii.,  p.  434.) 
We  here  give  another  article  touching  the  York  Build- 
ings, dated  Aug.  24th,  1723,  as  follows  : 

'  As  to  "  Spencer  of  old  Time,"  see  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  pp.  346- 
51.  JMr.  Speddingsays  :  "  There  follows  in  the  Lambeth  papers  a  great 
deal  of  correspondence  in  which  Francis  Bacon  took  part,  concern- 
ing the  sale  of  Early,  an  estate  of  Anthony's,  to  Alderman  Spencer. 
The  estate  was  entailed  ;  the  Alderman  was  a  sharp  bargainer  ; 
Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  the  eldest  of  the  half-brothers,  being  a  '  re- 
mainder-man '  and  required  therefore  to  join  in  the  bargain  and  sale, 
was  dithcult  and  suspicious  ;  Anthony  was  hard  pressed  for  money  ; 
the  lawyers  were  subtle,  and  the  law  complicated."  See  reference 
given. 

-  In  Bacon's  already  mentioned  private  notes,  made  in  1608,  we 
have  :  "  Not.  feodalls  doon  by  Cragge  perillous  to  Monarchies  ;  qu. 
ulterius  de  universo  isto  uogotio."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  iv.,  p.  94.) 


504  THREAD    OF   THE   LABYRINTH. 

"  A.  J.,  Avg.  24. — Sir,  Bubbles  were  grown  so  Stale  a 
Snare,  after  the  Detecting  the  Frauds  of  the  late  Direction 
of  the  South  Sea  Compauy,  that  we  thought  it  was  impos- 
sible the  People  of  England  should  have  been  any  longer 
in  Danger  of  being  drawn  in,  or  imposed  upon,  But 

"  '  Of  all  the  flagrant  high  Extremes  of  Vice, 
There's  none  so  void  of  Sense  as  Avarice.' ' 

"  Had  all  the  Honorable,  and  Right  Honorable  Persons 
who  had  raised  immense  Fortunes  by  the  Shares  they  had 
in  the  cunning  Part  of  the  South  Sea  Affair  acted  in  their 
Senses  at  last,  and  abandoned  them  in  Time,  they  might 
not  only  have  saved  their  Characters,  but  have  been  able 
to  have  made  some  Reparation  to  the  Families,  whom 
they  had  injured  ;  but  they  went  on,1ind  their  own  Ruin 
gave  the  Sufferers  some  Satisfaction,  thougli  not  such  as 
in  Justice  they  had  room  to  demand. 

"  But  the  Sufferers,  not  warned  sufficiently  by  their 
own  Harms,*  permitted  two  Sets  of  Bubble  Engineers  to 
operate  upon  them  still,  and  blinded  by  the  general  Ava- 
rice of  the  Times,  submitted  to  be  cajoled  still  with  hopes 
of  golden  Mountains  ;'  and  so  the  Crafty  found  the  Way 
still  to  dip  their  Fingers  in  the  Pockets  of  the  Simple,  till 
the  Fate  of  Bubbles*  in  general  came  upon  them. 

"  '  So  the  unskilful  Engineer 

Who  fires  an  ill-charg'd  Mine, 
Sinks  in  the  Rubbish  of  his  Works, 
And  spoils  his  own  Design.' 

'-  Promus,  80.  (By  far  the  largest  portion  of  hellebore  should  be 
given  to  the  covetous.) 

'  Note  this  use  of  the  word  "  harm"  in  the  plays,  in  The  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  and  throughout.  In  his  Essay  entitled  "  Of  Envy"  Bacon 
says  :  "  For  they  are  as  men  fallen  out  with  the  times  ;  and  think 
other  men's  harms  a  redemption  of  their  own  sufferings." 

*  Raleigh  in  a  statement  before  his  voyage  said  :  "  Secondly, 
when  God  shall  permit  us  to  arrive,  if  I  bring  them  not  to  a  moun- 
tain (near  a  navigable  river)  covered  with  gold  and  silver  ore,  let 
the  commander  have  commission  to  cut  off  my  head  there. "  (Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  vi.,  p.  343.)  And  on  p.  392,  concerning  this  voyage 
and  tliose  that  lost  their  fortunes  in  it,  Bacon  makes  use  of  the  ex- 
pression "golden  bait."  Please  see  quotation  at  p.  387,  and  see 
pp  384-387.  In  an  article  upon  this  subject  (see  Lee,  vol.  ii.,  p.  218), 
we  have  "  The  Golden  Bait  was  greedily  Catched  at,"  etc. 

*  Note  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  the  description  of  "  Madam 
Bubble  !"  p.  400. 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  505 

"  When  I  say  two  Sorts  of  Bubbles  remained,  I  do  not 
tell  you  I  mean  the  Harhurgli  Lottery,  and  the  York 
Buildings  Company  ;  but  this  I  may  say  of  them  both, 
which  I  hope  can  give  no  Offence  ;  that  if  any  Man  of 
Common  Understanding,  ever  took  these  two  Projects  to 
be  anything  else  but  Bubbles,  unless  it  be  something 
much  worse  ;  I  repeat  it  again,  I  may  say,  /  wonder  at 
them. 

"  We  find  in  the  last  of  these,  a  Person  of  Noble  Rank, 
and  unspotted  Character,  has  quitted  the  Service,  or  the 
Command,  call  it  as  you  please  ;  'tis  not  for  us  to  give 
Reasons  for  it.  The  World  guesses  his  Lordship's  Reasons 
to  be  very  good,  and  indeed  so  do  I,  and  I  believe  the 
World  guesses  at  those  Reasons  too. 

"  Had  the  Right  Honorable  Person  concerned  in  the 
First  of  them  thought  to  have  quitted,  in  the  same  timely 
manner,  I  believe  he  had  not  given  room  for  Knaves  to 
lay  the  Scandal  of  their  Designs  at  his  Door  ;  nor  for  the 
Public  Justice  to  take  cognizance  of  him  to  his  Disadvan- 
tage. 

"  Men  of  Design  love  dearly  to  have  high  Patrons  ; 
not  only  to  Disguise  their  Frauds,  in  order  to  push  them 
with  more  Success  upon  the  World,  but  to  bear  the  weight 
of  the  popular  Clamour,  when  that  Fraud  is  Detected. 

"  Do  Men  think  there  were  no  Knaves  in  the  South  Sea 
Administration  but  the  Directors,  and  those  few  that  bore 
the  Weight  with  them  ?  Was  the  Harbnrgli  Lottery  the 
single  Act  and  Project  of  only  the  Person  that  suffered 
the  Blast  of  it  ?  No,  no  !  all  Projects  have  a  Head,  but 
they  have  also  Members.' 

"  Now  here  is  a  Bubble  made  Notorious,  and  the  Right 
Honorable  Person,  on  whose  Reputation  perhaps  some 
Men  thought  they  could  build  a  BabeT'  of  their  own  Imag- 
ination, has  quitted  ;  and  they  are  now  lefti  to  themselves 
deceived,  and  are  without  a  Head.  Let  us  see  what  Meas- 
ures they  will  take  to  lick  into  shape  again  the  Creatures 
they  have  to  nurse. 

"  Will  they  tell  us  that  a  Stock,  whose  intrinsick  was 
affirmed  to  be  worth  between  30  ^x\^  ^S)  per  cent,  cannot 

'  This  expression  may  be  found  in  several  places  in  Bacon's  at- 
tributed writings.     As  to  a  plot  against  Bacon  see  p.  343. 

^  Bacon  applied  the  word  "  babel  "  to  Salisbury's  great  scheme 
for  revenue,  as  we  have  seen  in  earlier  pages.     See  p.  238. 


506  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

stand  at  seven  and  a  half  ?  And  that  Men  could  be  so 
blind,  as  to  decline  to  pay  a  call  upon  a  Stock  intrinsically 
worth  25  per  cent,  above  the  Market  Price  ?  Can  this  be, 
and  no  Fraud,  either  in  the  present  Practice,  or  the  past? 
If  the  Stock  is  now  worth  but  seven  and  a  half,  How  can 
it  be  true  that  it  was  worth  33  or  40  ?  If  it  be  worth 
more  than  seven  and  a  half,  AVhy  is  it  offered  so  low,  and 
why  so  few  Buyers  ?  If  it  was  affirmed  to  be  worth  33,  it 
was  True,  or,  it  was  not  ;  if  not,  then  it  was  a  Bubble  m 
those  that  affirmed  it  to  be  worth,  really  worth  it.  What's 
become  of  the  intrinsick?  Who  has  lessened  it?  Delude 
the  World  no  more  you  Men  of  Bites  and  Projects,  two 
Things  are  before  you. 

"  Either  produce  the  Money,  the  Missing  of  which  has 
made  it  less  ;  Or,  produce  the  Man  that  affirmed  it  to  be 
more.  Your  Humble  Servant,  A  Sufferer."  (Lee,  vol. 
iii.,  p.  175.) 

But  now  let  us  look  deeper  for  our  thread.  Mining, 
together  with  the  recovery  of  treasure  from  the  sea,  was 
laid  as  a  kind  of  basis  for  Solomon's  House  in  the  New 
Atlantis.  Aid  in  the  enterprise  was  sought  through  Par- 
liament. By  means  of  it  Bacon  was  to  make  the  world 
his  heir.  This  was  to  be  accomplished  by  means  of  true 
penitents,  reformed  criminals,  "  whose  wretched  carcasses 
the  imperial  laws  have,  or  shall  dedicate,  as  untimely 
feasts,  to  the  worms  of  the  earth,  in  whose  womb  those 
deserted  mineral  riches  must  ever  lie  buried  as  lost  abort- 
ments,  unless  those  be  made  the  active midwives  to  deliver 
them."  '  The  voyage  of  the  New  Atlantis  was  headed  for 
the  South  Sea.  Bacon  had  some  undisclosed  scheme  for 
revenue.  Dr.  Eawley's  words  are  that  "  some  papers 
touching  matters  of  estate,  tread  too  near  to  the  heels  of 
truth,  and  to  the  times  of  the  persons  concerned."  In 
the  light  of  these  facts  we  quote  in  full  the  appendix  to 
Swift's  voyage  to  Laputa,  entitled  a  "  Ballad  on  the  South 
Sea  Scheme."  ^ 


'  Already  have  we  seen  Bacon's  manifested  interest  concerning 
the  Commonwealth's  commission  for  the  poor  and  vagabonds,  p.  236. 

^  Ch.  1  of  Book  6  of  the  I)e  Auymentis,  wliich  opens  the  subject 
of  the  transmission  of  literary  products  to  posterity,  begins  in  these 
words  :  "It  is  permitted  to  every  man  (excellent  King)  to  make 
merry  with  himself  and  his  own  matters." 


THREAD    or   THE    LABYRI]S'TH.  507 

"  Ye  wise  philosophers,  explain 

What  magic  makes  our  money  rise, 

Whuii  droi)p'd  into  the  Southern  main  ; 

Or  do  these  jugglers  cheat  our  eyes  ? 

"  Put  in  your  money,  fairly  told. 

Presto  !  begone  ! — 'tis  here  again  : 
Ladies  and  gentlemen,  behold, — 
Here's  every  piece  as  big  as  ten  ! 

"  Thus,  in  a  basin  drop  a  shilling, 
Then  fill  the  vessel  to  the  brim, 
Fou  shall  observe,  as  you  are  filling, 
The  ponderous  metal  seems  to  svvim.^ 

"  It  rises  both  in  bulk  and  height, 
Behold  it  swelling  like  a  sop  f 
The  liquid  medicine  cheats  your  sight, — 
BehokP  it  mounted'*  to  the  top. 


'  Bacon,  in  Sub.  761  of  his  Natiiral  History,  says  :  "  For  like  as  a 
shilling  in  the  bottom  of  the  water  will  show  greater  ;  so  will  a 
candle  in  a  lauthorn,  in  the  bottom  of  the  water."  In  the  next  sub. 
he  says  :  "  For  e.f  ample,  we  see  that,  take  an  empty  basin,  put  an 
angel  of  gold,  or  what  you  will,  into  it  ;  then  go  so  far  from  the 
basin,  till  j^ou  cannot  .see  the  angel,  because  it  is  not  in  a  right  line  ; 
then  fill  the  basin  with  water  ;  and  you  shall  see  it  out  of  its  place, 
because  of  the  reflection."     See  these  sections  in  this  connection. 

-  Bacon  says  :  "  Spirit  of  wine  mingled  with  common  water, 
though  it  be  much  lighter  than  oil,  yet  so  as  if  the  first  fall  be  broken 
by  means  of  a  sop  or  otherwise,  it  stayeth  above  ;  and  if  it  be  once 
mingled,  it  severeth  not  again,  as  oil  doth."  (Phil.  Works,  vol. 
iii.,  p.  822.)  And  on  p.  458  he  says  :  "  For  small  favours,  they  do 
but  lull  men  asleep,  both  as  to  caution  and  as  to  industry,  and  as 
Demosthenes  calleth  them,  Alimenta  socordim  [sops  to  feed  sloth]." 

*  This  use  of  the  word  "  behold  "  may  be  found  throughout  these 
writings.  In  Bacon's  expostulatory  letter  to  Coke  we  have  :  "  First, 
therefore,  behold  your  errors."  Promus,  338.  (Behold  how  all 
things  rejoice  at  the  approach  of  the  age.)  In  Measure  for  Measure, 
Act  i.,  sc.  2,  p.  24,  we  have  : 

' '  Lucio.  Behold,  behold  where  madam  Mitigation  comes  ! ' ' 

And  in  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  concerning  the  sheep,  p.  287,  we  have  : 
"  Behold  how  quietly  she  takes  her  death,  and,  without  objecting, 
she  suffereth  her  skin  to  be  puUeciover  her  ears." 

•*  As  to  the  word  "  mount,"  we  find  Bacon,  in  his  Natural  History, 
Sub.  532-36,  using  the  expressions  "  vapour  mounting  to  the  head  ;" 
"  firs  and  pines  mount  of  themselves  ;"  "a  slow  putting  forth,  and 
less  vigour  of  mounting  ;"  "  they  are  kept  warm  ;  and  that  even  in 
plants  helpeth  mounting."  And  see  his  use  of  the  word  at  p.  154. 
In  the  De  Augmentis,  Book  5,  ch.  3,  Bohn  ed.,  p.  193,  he  says  : 


508  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRIIsrTH. 

"  In  stock  three  hundred  thousand  pounds, 
I  have  in  view  a  lord's  estate  ; 
My  manors  all  contiguous  round, 
A  coach  and  six,  and  served  in  plate  ! 

"  Thus  the  deluded  bankrupt  raves, 
Puts  all  upon  a  desperate  bet, 
Then  plunges  in  the  southern  waves, 
Dipped  over  head  and  ears — in  debt. 

"  So,  by  a  calenture  misled, 

The  mariner  with  rapture  sees 
On  the  smooth  ocean's  azure  bed, 
Enamelled  fields  and  verdant  trees. 

"  "With  eager  haste  he  longs  to  rove 
In  that  fantastic  scene,  and  thinks 
It  must  be  some  enchanted  grove. 
And  in  he  leaps,  and  doioi  he  sinks. 

"  Five  hundred  chariots,  just  bespoke, 

Are  sunk  in  these  devouring  waves, — 
The  horses  drown'd,  the  harness  broke. 
And  here  the  owners  find  their  graves. 

"  Like  Pharaoh,  by  directors  led  ; 

They  with  their  spoils  went  safe  before  ! 
His  chariots  tiunbling  out  tlie  dead. 
Lay  shatter'd  on  the  Red  Sea  shore. 

"  Raised  up  on  Hope's  aspiring  plumes. 
The  young  adventurer  o'er  the  deep. 
An  eagle's  tiight  and  slate  assumes. 
And  scorns  the  middle-way  to  keep.' 

"  On  paper  wings  he  takes  his  flight, 

With  -icax  the  father  l)ound  them  fast  ; 
The  weix  is  melted  by  the  height. 
And  down  the  towering  boy  is  cast. 

"  So  heat  in  diffusing  itself  rather  mounts  upwards,  but  cold  in 
diffusing  itself  rather  moves  downwards."  In  Addison,  vol.  i.,  p. 
483,  we  h.ave  :  "At  the  same  time  are  seen  little  flakes  of  scurf 
rising  up,  that  are  probably  the  parts  which  compose  the  islands, 
for  they  often  mount  of  themselves,  though  the  water  is  not 
troubled." 

'  Here,  again,  we  have  Bficon's  allusion  to  "  Scjlla  and  Icarus, 
or  The  Middle  Way."  Read  in  this  connection  his  interpretation  of 
this  fable. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  509 


"  A  moralist  might  here  explain 

The  rashness  of  the  Cretan  youth, — 
Describe  his  fall  into  the  main. 
And  from  a  fable  form  a  truth. 

"  His  wings  are  his  paternal  rent. 
He  melts  the  icax  at  every  flame  ; 
His  credit  sunk,  his  money  spent, 
In  Southern  Seas  lie  leaves  his  name. 

"  Inform  us,  you  that  best  can  tell. 

Why  in  yon  dangerous  gulf  profound. 
Where  hundreds  and  where  thousands  fell. 
Fools  chiefly  float,  the  wise  are  drowu'd  ? 

"  So  have  I  seen,  from  Severn's  brink, 
A  flock  of  geese  jump  down  together. 
Swim  where  the  birds  of  Jove  would  sink, 
And  swimming,  never  wet  a  feather.*^ 

"  But  I  affirm  'tis  false,  in  fact. 

Directors  better  know  their  tools  ; 
We  see  the  nation's  credit  cracked. 

Each  knave  has  made  a  thousand  fools. ^ 


'  As  to  this  gulf  see  the  mentioned  fable  as  given  in  Mr.  Mon- 
tagu's Life  of  Bacon,  where  we  have  mentioned  "  the  rocks  of  dis- 
tinction and  the  gulfs  of  vmiversality,  which  two  are  famous  for  the 
wrecks  both  of  wits  and  arts."  I  find  that  Mr.  Spedding,  if  not 
here,  in  many  places  seeks  to  concentrate  Bacon's  words.  See  also 
in  this  connection  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  pp.  321-25. 

'^  "  A  flock  of  geese"  signifies  a  senate,  as  seen  in  our  quotation 
from  Swift,  p.  455. 

^  Promus,  612.  (At  length  the  string  cracks  by  being  overstrained.) 
In  the  A.  D.  B.  Mask,  p."l34,  we  have  : 

"  If  thou  do  aught,  laborious, 
Yet  if  it  honest  be. 
Thy  name  and  fame  most  Glorious 
Shall  rest  from  pains  most  free  : 
But  if  with  pleasure  and  delight 
Thou  work  a  wicked  fact. 
Thy  pleasure  soon  will  take  his  flight, 
Shame  stays  and  Credit's  crackt." 

Note  the  use  of  this  word  "  crack,"  and  particularly  in  the  plays. 
In  Hamlet,  Act.  v.,  sc.  2,  p.  376,  we  have  : 

"  Hor.  Now  cracks  a  noble  heart  !— Good  night,  sweet  prince  ; 
And  flights  of  angels  sing  thee  to  thy  rest  ! — 
Why  does  the  drum  come  hither." 

In  The  Tempest,  Act  iii.,  sc.  1,  p.  64,  we  has'e  : 


510  THREAI>   OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

"  One  fool  may  from  another  win, 

And  then  get  off  with  money  stored, 
But  if  a  sliarper  once  comes  in, 

He  throws  at  all,  and  sweeps  the  board. 

"  As  fishes  on  each  other  prey. 

The  great  ones  swallow  vip  the  small  ; 
So  fares  it  in  the  Southern  Sea, 
The  whale  directors  eat  up  all.' 

"  When  stock  is  high,  they  come  between, 
Maiiing  by  secondhand  their  offers, 
Then  cunningly  retire  unseen, 
With  each  a  million  in  his  coffers. 

"  So  when  upon  a  moonshine  night, 
An  ass  was  drinking  at  a  stream, 
A  cloud  arose  and  stopped  the  light. 
By  intercepting  every  beam.* 

"  The  day  of  judgment  will  be  soon, 
Cries  out  a  sage  among  the  crowd. 
An  ass  has  swallowed  up  the  moon — 
The  moon  lay  safe  behind  a  cloud. 

"  Each  poor  suhso'iber  to  the  sea. 

Sinks  down  at  once,  and  there  he  lies  ; 
Directors  fall  as  well  as  the^^, 
Their  fall  is  but  a  trick  to  rise. 


"  Fer.  No,  precious  creature  : 

I'd  rather  crack  my  sinews,  break  my  back, 
Than  you  should  such  dishonour  undergo, 
While  I  sit  lazy  by." 
And  in  Act  v.,  sc.  1,  p.  91,  we  have  : 

"  Pro.  Now  does  my  project  gather  to  a  head  : 
My  charms  crack  not  ;  my  spirits  obey  ;  and  time 
Goes  upright  with  his  carriage." 
'  In  the  play  of  Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre,  Act  ii.,  sc.  1,  p.  308,  we 
have  : 

"  1  FisJi.  Why  as  men  do  a-land  :  the  great  ones  eat  up  the  little 
ones.  I  can  compare  our  rich  misers  to  nothing  so  fitly  as  to  a 
whale  ;  'a  plays  and  tumbles,  driving  the  poor  fry  before  him,  and 
at  last  devours  them  all  at  a  mouthful.  Such  whales  have  I  heard 
on  the  land,  who  never  leave  gaping,  till  they've  swallow'd  the 
whole  parish,  church,  steeple,  bells  and  all."  And  see  All's  Well 
tliat  Ends  Well,  Act  iv.,  sc.  3.  p.  359. 

-  Promus,  648.  For  the  moonshine  in  the  water.  In  Love's 
Labour's  Lost,  Act  v.,  sc.  2,  p.  445,  we  have  : 

"  Itos.  O  vain  petitioner  !  beg  a  greater  matter  ; 
Thou  now  request'st  'but  moonshine  in  the  water." 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  511 

"  So  fishes  risino;  from  the  main, 

Can  soar  with  moistened  wings  on  high  ; 
The  moisture  dried,  they  sink  again, 
And  dip  their  fins  again  to  fly. 

"  Undone  at  play,  the  female  troops 
Come  here  their  losses  to  retrieve  ; 
Ride  o'er  the  waves  in  spacious  hoops, 
Like  Lapland  witches  in  a  sieve.  ^ 

"  Thus  Venus  to  the  sea  descends, 

As  poets  feign  ;  but  where's  the  moral  ? 
It  shows  the  queen  of  love  intends 
To  search  the  sea  for  pearl  and  coral. 

"  The  sea  is  richer  than  the  land, 

I  heard  it  from  my  grannam's  mouth  ; 
Which  now  I  clearly  understand. 
For  by  the  sea  she  meant  the  south. 

"  Thus,  by  directors,  we  are  told, 

'  Pray,  gentlemen,  believe  your  eyes  ; 
Our  ocean's  covered  o'er  with  gold. 
Look  round  and  see  how  thick  it  lies  : 

"  '  We,  gentlemen,  are  your  assisters, 

We'll  come  and  hold  you  by  the  chin  :  * 
Alas  !  all  is  not  gold  that  glisters. 
Ten  Thousands  sink  by  leaping  in.^ 

"  Oh  !  would  those  patriots  be  so  kind. 
Here  is  the  deep  to  wash  their  hands. 
Then  like  Pactolus,  we  should  find, 
The  sea  indeed  had  golden  sands. 

"  A  shilling  in  the  bath  you  fling, 
The  silver  takes  a  nobler  hue, 
By  magic  virtue  in  the  spring. 
And  seems  a  guinea  to  your  view. 

"  But  as  a  guinea  will  not  pass 
At  market  for  a  farthing  more, 
Shown  through  a  multiplying  glass, 
Than  what  it  always  did  before 

'  Promus,  733.  To  divine  with  a  sieve.  Promus,  521.  (Almost 
[like]  the  daughters  of  Danus,  whose  punishment  in  hell  was  to 
pour  water  into  an  empty  sieve.)  As  to  "Lapland  witches"  see 
Defoe's  "  Duncan  Campbell." 

*  Promus,  477.  All  is  not  gold  that  glisters.  Promus,  473.  lie 
must  needs  swim  that  is  held  up  by  the  chin. 


512  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

"  So  cast  it  in  the  SoutJiern  seas, 

Or  view  it  tlirough  a  jobber's  bill  ; — 
Put  on  what  spectacles  you  please, 
Your  guinea's  but  a  guinea  still. 

"  One  night  a  fool  into  a  brook, 

Thus  from  a  hillock  looking  down, 
The  golden  stars  for  guineas  took. 
And  silver  Cynthia  for  a  crown. 

"  The  point  he  could  no  longer  doubt  : 
He  ran,  he  leaped  into  the  tiood  ; 
There  sprawd'd  a  while,  and  scarce  got  out, 
All  cover'd  o'er  with  slime  and  mud. 

"  '  Upon  the  water  cast  thy  bread. 

And  after  many  days  thou'lt  find  it  ;  ' 
But  gold  upon  this  ocean  spread, 

Shall  sink,  and  leave  no  mark  behind  it. 

"  There  is  a  gulf  where  thousands  fell. 
Here  all  the  bold  adventurers  came, 
A  narrow  sound,  though  deep  as  hell  ; — 
Change  Alley  is  the  dreadful  name. 

"  Nine  times  a  day  it  ebbs  and  flows, 
Yet  he  that  on  the  surface  lies, 
Without  a  pilot  seldom  knows 
The  time  it  falls  or  when  'twill  rise. 

"  Subscribers  here  by  thousands  float, 
And  jostle  one  another  down  ; 
Each  paddling  in  his  leaky  boat. 

And  there  they  fish  for  gold  and  drow^n. 

"  Now  buried  in  the  depths  below, 
Now  mounted  up  to  heaven  again. 
They  reel  and  stagger  to  and  fro. 
At  their  wits'  end,  like  drunken  men. 

"  Meantime,  secure  on  Garraway  cliffs, 
A  savage  race,  by  shipwrecks  fed. 
Lie  wailing  for  the  founder'd  skiffs. 
And  strip  the  bodies  of  the  dead. 

"  But  these,  you  say,  are  fictions  lies. 
From  some  malicious  Tory's  brain  ; 
For  where  directors  get  a  prize. 

The  Swiss  and  Dutch  whole  millions  drain. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH,  513 

"  Thus,  when  by  rooks  a  lord  is  plied, 
Some  cully  often  wins  a  bet, 
By  venturing  on  the  cheating  side, 
Though  not  into  the  secret  let. 

"  While  some  build  castles  in  the  air. 
Directors  build  them  in  the  seas  ; 
Subscribers  plainly  see  them  there, — 
For  fools  will  see  as  wise  men  please. 

"  Thus  oft  by  mariners  are  shown — 
Unless  the  men  of  Kent  are  liars — 
Earl  Godwin's  castles  overthrown. 
And  palace  roofs  and  steeple  spires. 

"  Mark  where  the  sly  directors  creep. 
Nor  to  the  shore  approach  too  nigh  ! 
The  monsters  nestle  in  the  deep. 
To  seize  you  in  your  passing  by. 

"  Then  like  the  do.gs  of  Nile,  be  wise. 
Who  taught  by  instinct  how  to  shun 
The  crocodile,  that  lurking  lies. 

Rim  as  they  drink,  and  drinking  run. 

»  "  Antaeus  could,  by  magic  charms. 

Recover  strength  where'er  he  fell  ; 
Alcides  held  him  in  his  arms. 
And  scut  him  up  in  air  to  Ml. 

"  Directors  thrown  into  the  sea. 

Recover  strength  and  vigor' there  ; 
But  may  be  tamed  another  way, 
Sus2)en(led  for  a  while  in  airf 

"  Direciors  !  for  'tis  you  I  warn. 

By  long  experience  we  ha  ye' found 
What  planet  ruled  when  you  were  born  •' 
We  see  you  never  can  be  drown'd.        ' 

"  Beware,  nor  over-bulky  grow. 

Nor  come  within  your  cully's  reach  • 
For  if  the  sea  should  sink  so  low  ' 

To  leave  3'ou  dry  upon  the  beach, 

'  In  a  Defoe  article  dated  April  30th,  1720  (Lee,  vol.  ii  n  220) 
wehave:  "Sure  some  ill  Planet  ruled  when  I  was  born!  ^f  have 
all  my  life  been  building  Castles  in  the  Air,  yet  could  never  get  a 
lodging  in  any  one  of  them. "  ^  ^®'  ^ 

17 


614  THREAD    OF   THE   I.ABYRINTH. 

"  You'll  owe  your  niin  to  your  bulk  ; 
Your  foes  already  waiting  stand, 
To  tear  you  like  a  founder 'd  hulk, 
While  you  lie  helpless  on  the  strand. 

"  Thus,  when  a  whale  has  lost  the  tide, 
The  coasters  crowd  to  seize  the  spoil  ; 
Tlie  monster  into  parts  diTide, 
And  strip  the  bones,  and  melt  the  oil.' 

"  0  !  may  some  western  tempest  sweep 
These  locusts  whom  our  fruits  have  fed 
That  plague,  directors,  to  the  deep. 

Driven  from  the  South  Sea  to  the  Red.* 

"  May  He,  whom  Nature's  laws  obey, 

Who  lifts  the  poor  and  sinks  the  proud. 
Quiet  the  raging  of  the  sea 
And  still  the  madness  of  the  crowd  ! 

"  But  never  shall  our  isle  have  rest 

Till  those  devouring  swine  run  down. 
The  devils  leaving  the  possessed, — 
And  headlong  in  the  boaters  drown. 

'  Concerning  the  revenue,  mining,  and  the  whale.  Bacon,  in  1617, 
says  :  "  When  the  famous  case  of  the  Copper  Mines  was  argued  in 
tiiis  court,  and  judged  for  the  King,  it  was  not  upon  the  fine  reasons 
of  wit  ;  as  that  the  King's  prerogative  drew  to  it  the  chief  i?i  quaqve 
specie;  the  lion  is  the  chief  of  beasts,  the  eagle  the  chief  of  birds, 
the  whale  the  chief  of  lishes,  and  so  copper  the  chief  of  minerals  ; 
for  these  are  but  dalliances  of  law  and  ornaments  ;  but  it  was  the 
grave  records  and  precedents  that  grounded  the  judgment  of  that 
cause  ;  and  therefore  I  would  have  you  both  guide  and  arm  yourself 
with  them  against  these  vapours  and  fumes  of  law,  which  are  ex- 
tracted out  of  men's  inventions  and  conceits."  (Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  vi.,  p.  203.)  See  Defoe  article,  p.  480.  As  to  these  copper  mines, 
see  a  foot-note  to  p.  214  of  Gulliver's  Travels.  In  Henry  IV.,  part 
2,  Act  iv.,  sc.  4,  p.  408, we  have  : 

"  His  temper,  therefore,  must  be  well  observ'd  : 
Chide  him  for  faults,  and  do  it  reverently. 
When  you  perceive  his  blood  inclin'd  to  mirth  ; 
But,  being  moody,  give  him  line  and  scope. 
Till  that  his  passions,  like  a  whale  on  ground, 
Confound  themselves  with  working." 

*  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  112,  we  have  :  "  Thus  it  happened 
to  Israel  ;  for  their  sins  they  were  sent  back  again  by  the  way  of 
the  Red  Sea  ;  and  I  am  made  to  tread  those  steps  with  sorrow  which 
I  might  have  trod  with  delight,  had  it  not  been  for  this  sinful 
s'eep.' 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRIXTH,  515 

"  The  Nation  then,  too  late,  will  find. 
Computing  all  their  cost  and  trouble, 
Directors'  promises  but  wind,        • 
South  Sea  at  best  a  mighty  bubble."' 

We  here  imagine  the  intelligent  reader  to  shift  his 
globes  of  vision  from  onr  page  and  say  :  'Tis  true,  we  here 
iind  illusions  that  may  very  properly  be  taken  to  concern 
Bacon's  troubles  from  1617  to  and  after  his  fall,  and  the 
circumstances  to  have  caused  good  men,  as  well  as 
the  rabble,  to  have  combined  against  him.  But  it  may 
likewise  be  said,  Were  not  these  the  lines  of  Dean  Swift 
in  1720,  and  which  appear  in  the  mentioned  edition  of 
Gulliver's  Travels  beginning  at  p.  255,  and  from  which 
our  quotation  is  taken  ? 

Our  unhesitating  answer  is,  that  whoever  else  may  have 
been  the  author  of  "  Gulliver's  Travels."  "  A  Tale  of 
a  Tub,"  "The  Battle  of  the  Books,"  "The  Mechanical 
Operation  of  the  Spirit,"  "  Tiie  Abolishing  of  Chris- 
tianity," "  The  Art  of  Political  Lying,"  and  some  others, 
Dean  Swift  was  not,  unless  it  be  likewise  said  that  he  was 
author  not  only  of  the  newly  discovei'ed  Defoe  papers, 
but  generally  of  the  body  of  the  Defoe  literature  ;  and 
which  conclusion,  with  us,  the  careful  reader  must  him- 
self reach  if  he  but  peruse  them  in  relation  ;  and  this,  not 
Ijy  reason  of  identity  of  language  characteristics  merely, 
but  by  reason  of  general  invention  and  in  touching  upon  the 
same  subjects  of  thought.  "  Gulliver's  Travels"  excepted, 
Swift's  works  consist  of  short  pieces,  and  found  in  the 
mentioned  Camelot  Classics  edition,  of  which  we  have 
made  use  in  this  investigation. 

The  "  Tale  of  a  Tub,"  together  with  its  introductory 
matter,  should  be  read,  or  much  light  will  be  withheld 

'  Touching  the  word  "  bubble,"  we  here  give  place  to  the  first  of 
four  verses  by  Bacon  in  the  introduction  to  his  translation  into  verse 
of  certain  Psalms,  and  which  is  as  follows  : 

"  The  world's  a  bubble,  and  the  life  of  man 
less  than  a  span  : 
In  his  conception  wretched,  from  the  womb 

so  to  the  tomb  : 
Curst  from  the  cradle,  and  brought  up  to  years 

with  cares  and  fears. 
Who  then  to  frail  mortality  shall  trust. 
But  limns  the  water,  or  but  writes  in  dust." 
(Bacon's  Literary  Works,   vol.  ii.,    p.    371.)    And  as  to  "  Madam 
Ikibble,"  please  see  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  400. 


516  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

from  the  readevo  It  is  indeed  a  Head-light  to  our  Head- 
light. It  is  dedicated  to  posterity  in  these  words,  "  To  His 
lioyal  Highness  Prince  Posterity,"  and  npon  which  Prince 
Sir  Francis  Bacon,  as  we  have  seen,  ever  had  his  eye. 

The  publisher's  introductory  statement  to  the  article 
entitled  "  A  Discourse  Concerning  the  Mechanical  Opera- 
tion of  the  Spirit"  is  in  these  words  :  "  The  following 
Discourse  came  into  my  hands  perfect  and  entire  ;  but 
there  being  several  things  in  it  which  the  present  age 
would  not  very  well  bear,  I  kept  it  by  me  some  years,  re- 
solving it  should  never  see  the  light.  At  length,  by  the 
advice  and  assistance  of  a  judicious  friend,  I  retrenched 
those  parts  that  might  give  most  offence,  and  have  now 
ventured  to  publish  the  remainder.  Concerning  the  author 
I  am  wholly  ignorant  ;  neither  can  I  conjecture  whether 
it  be  the  same  with  that  of  the  two  foregoing  pieces  [these 
are  '  A  Tale  of  a  Tub  '  and  '  The  Battle  of  the  liooks  '], 
the  original  having  been  sent  me  at  a  different  time,  and 
in  a  different  hand.  The  learned  reader  will  better  de- 
termine to  whose  judgment  I  entirely  submit  it." 

Again  do  we  call  attention  to  the  mana3uvring  by  which 
"  Gulliver's  Travels" — said  to  be  designed  to  form  part  of  a 
satire  on  the  "  Abuse  of  Human  Learning,"  projected  by 
Pope,  Swift,  and  Arbuthnot — came  first  to  the  hands  of 
the  publisher.' 

As  to  the  article  on  Political  Lying,  Swift  wrote  to 
Stella  :  "  Arbuthnot  has  sent  me  from  Windsor,  a  pretty 
discourse  upon  lying  ;  and  I  have  ordered  the  printer  to 
come  for  it."  ^ 

'  From  a  note  at  p.  56  of  Gulliver  we  quote  tlie  following  :  "  Swift 
and  Defoe  are  unrivalled  in  the  art  of  introducing  trifling  and  mi- 
nute circumstances  which  give  an  air  of  reality  to  Iheir  fictitious 
narrations.  In  Gulliver's  early  history,  as  in  that  of  Crusoe,  persons 
are  casually  mentioned  of  whom  we  hear  nothing  more.  Gulliver's 
uncle,  lilie  Crusoe's  brother,  only  comes  on  the  stage  to  disappear 
again  forever.  This  is  quite  contrary  to  the  usual  course  of  romance 
writers,  who  rarely  introduce  a  personage  or  any  incident  that  does 
not  in  some  way  aid  the  development  of  the  plot."  And  we  may 
add  that  the  language  features  already  considered  apply  equally  to 
the  works  of  Swift.  ^ 

^  Bacon  represents  Hermes  Stella  as  making  annotations  upoiThis 
fragment  entitled  Vdlerhis  Tenni/nis,  though  no  such  annotations 
appear.  And  Mr.  Spedding  says  :  "  The  manuscript  from  which 
Robert  Stephens  printed  tliese  fragments  was  found  among  soUjC 
loose  papers  placed  iu  his  hands  by  the  Earl  of  Oxford,  and  is  now 


THEEAB    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  517 

It  thus  appears  to  have  come  from  some  hand  other 
tlian  Swift's.  But  the  preserved  papers  between  these  par- 
ties were  doubtless  part  of  the  great  scheme. 

From  an  introductory  note  to  the  mentioned  edition  of 
Swift's  AVorks  we  quote  as  follows  : 

"  Thus  the  services  of  a  writer  so  ready  and  incisive  as 
Svvift  were  of  the  highest  value  to  the  ministry.  Tlie 
Examiner,  a  weekly  series  of  political  essays,  was  com- 
menced in  their  interest  shortly  after  their  accession  to 
power.  Swift  soon  took  it  in  hand,  and  continued  to 
write  it  for  some  eight  months.  On  the  27th  of  Nov. 
1711  his  pamphlet  on  The  Conduct  of  tlie  Aliens  appeared. 
A  second  edition  was  called  for  in  a  few  days,  and  was 
sold  in  a  few  hours.  By  the  end  of  January  11,000  copies 
had  been  sold.  Much  other  work  of  effective  sort  he  did 
for  Harley's  ministry."     It  is  here  also  said  : 

"  2'/ie  Excmdner  was  a  weekly  sheet  established  in 
support  of  tlie  Tory  Government  of  the  day.  The  first 
number  appeared  on  the  3rd  of  August  1710.  Among 
the  earliest  writers  were  Afcterburry,  St.  John  (afterward 
Viscount  Bolingbroke),  and  Prior,  Swift's  first  contribu- 
tion was  No.  14,  dated  the  2nd  of  November.  His  second 
is  printed  here.'  He  continued  to  write  the  paper  regu- 
larly for  about  eight  months,  his  last  essay  being  No.  45, 
dated  the  7th  of  June  1711,  and  his  last  contribution,  a  brief 
address  in  No.  46  ;  after  which,  as  he  states,  he  '  let  it 
fall  into  other  hands,  who  held  it  up  in  some  manner  until 
Her  Majesty's  death.'  " 

Swift  is  also  said  to  have  contributed  some  articles  to 
the  Tatter,  started  by  Steel  April  12th,  1709,  and  con- 
tinued to  January  2d,  1711. 

It  is  here  important  to  inquire  as  to  whether,  as  orig- 
inally produced,  all  of  the  articles  in  the  great  scheme,  as 
in  those  by  Swift,  Addison,  and  some  others,  were  num- 
bered. Why  ?  Because  the  work  was  not  only  devised, 
but  produced,  through  a  formula.  On  what  authority? 
Bacon's  own  words.  Where  found  ?  At  p.  181,  where 
he  says  :  "  I  foresee  that  this  formula  of  interpretation, 

in  the  British  Museum  ;  Harl.  MSS.  6462."     (Bacon's  Phil.  Works, 
vol.  iii.,  p.  206.) 

'  Note  that  these  articles  by  Swift  were  all  uumhered.  This  i?  like- 
wise true  of  the  Addison  articles.  Let  it  be  investigated  as  to 
whether  this  was  true  of  Iheni  all  when  first  issued. 


518  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

and  the  inventions  made  by  it,  Avill  be  more  vigorous  and 
secure  when  contained  within  legitimate  and  cliosen  de- 
vices." And  see  Sonnet,  p.  102,  and  quotation  at  p.  107. 
In  connection  with  this  thought  we  introduce  a  Defoe  ar- 
ticle under  date  July  31st,  1725,  as  follows  : 

"J.  ,/.,  Jidy  31. — Sir,  I  suppose,  among  the  rest  of 
your  Friends,  you  have  not  been  ignorant  of  the  Clamour 
which  has  been  made  upon  a  certain  Author,  for  publish- 
ing his  Translation,  or  Version,  of  our  old  Friend  Homer, 
under  his  own  Name,  when  it  seems  he  has  not  been,  nay, 
some  have  had  the  hardiness  to  say,  could  not  have  teen, 
the  real  Operator. 

"  I  must  confess,  I  cannot  come  into  all  the  Resent- 
ments of  the  learned  World  upon  that  Subject  ;  and  I  am 
not  without  my  Eeasons  for  my  Opinion,  as  I  suppose 
they  have  shewn  their  reasons  for  theirs. 

"  Writing,  you  know,  Mr.  Applehee,  is  become  a  very 
considerable  Branch  of  the  English  Commerce  ;  Com- 
posing, Inventing,  Translating,  Versifying,  etc.,  are  the 
several  Manufactures  which  supply  the  Commerce.  The 
Booksellers  are  the  Master  Manufacturers  or  Employers. 
The  several  Writers,  Authors,  Copyers,  Sub- Writers,  and 
all  other  Operators  with  Pen  and  Ink,  are  the  Workmen 
employed  by  the  said  Master  Manufacturers,  in  the  form- 
ing, dressing,  and  finishing  the  said  Manufactures  ;  as  the 
Combers,  Si)inners,  Weavers,  Fullers,  Dressers,  etc.,  are, 
in  our  Clothing  Manufactures,  by  the  Master  Clothiers, 
etc. 

"  If  a  Clothier  employs  a  Master  W^orkman  to  weave 
him  so  many  Pieces  of  Cloth,  and  agrees  with  him  for  so 
much  Money,  the  Weaver  brings  them  home  finished,  and 
puts  his  own  Mark  on  them  ;  and  this  Weaver,  being 
known  to  be  a  good  Workman,  the  Master  Clothier  recom- 
mends the  Cloths  to  his  Customers,  as  the  Work  and 
Weaving  of  such  a  known  and  eminent  Weaver.  At  the 
same  Time,  the  Clothier  knows  very  well  that  the  said 
Weaver  could  not  be  able  to  weave  them  all  himself  ;  per- 
haps also  he  knows  that  some  of  them  are  of  a  much  meaner 
Workmanship  than  that  Weaver  used  to  Work,  yet  the 
AVeaver  and  the  Clothier  conniving  together,  they  all  carry 
the  same  Mark.  Nay,  sometimes  the  Weaver  brings  a 
better  Workman  than  himself  into  the  Loom  ;  but  having 
an  Opportunity  to  get  his  Work  cheaper,  he  takes  him  in. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  519 

And  fclins,  a  Medley  of  goods  are  put  off  together,  all  under 
the  Mark,  and  in  the  Name  of  the  Master  Weaver. 

''Now  upon  the  whole,  pray,  Mr.  Applehee,  who  is  the 
greatest  Cheat  in  this  Affair,'the  Clothier  or  the  Manu- 
facturer, the  Master  Employer,  or  the  Weaver?  Not  but 
that  they  may  be  both  Rogues,  Mr.  Applehee,  but  who  is 
most  concerned  in  the  Fraud,  seeing  it  is  the  Master 
Clothier  who  puts  the  Goods  off  in  the  Weaver's  Name, 
tlio'  he  knows  there  are  'Prentices,  and  Scoundrels, 
for  the  sake  of  a  low  Price,  emploj'ed  in  the  making  them. 

"  As  to  Writing,  Mr.  Applebee,  Do  we  expect  that  every 
Man  that  publishes  a  Book,  and  sets  his  Name  to  it,  should 
Bona  pie,  be  the  Author  of  it  all  himself  ?  Do  we  not 
know  how  several  Booksellers  of  Note  at  this  Time,  keep 
Authors  of  different  Fame  employed,  some  at  one  Price, 
some  at  another,  to  form  the  same  Pieces  of  Work  ?  And 
have  not  several  Autiiors,  who  are  particular  for  being 
voluminous,  their  several  Journeymen  that  work  for  thoni, 
some  in  one  Jail,  some  in  another,  some  in  one  fluxing 
House,  some  in  another?  Nay,  has  not  the  Eight  Kever- 
end  Author  himself,  who  made  this  very  complaint,  his 
deputy  Journalist^  and  his  supply  of  Operators,  as  Occa- 
sion requires,  tho'  the  Labourers  receive  their  Esteem 
from  his  own  illustrious  Character,  and  are  all  called  his 
Own  ? 

"  Did  not  the  late  celebrated  Tatters  pass,  even  to  the 
end  of  the  Work,  for  the  Labours  of  the  worthy  Editor  Sir 
Dick  Steele?  And  did  it  not  come  out  at  last,  when  he 
could  conceal  it  no  longer,  that  he  had  abundance  of  ^4 iW 
deplumes  under  him?  And  might  we  not  give  the  same 
Account  of  several  laborious  Tracts,  which  the  World  to 
this  Day  honours  the  Names  of  Authors  for,  who  had  the 
least  share  in  the  Labour  ? 

*'  But  to  carry  this  Complaint  higher,  a  Merry  Fellow 
of  my  Acquaintance  assures  me,  that  our  Cousin  Homer 
himself  was  guilty  of  the  same  Plagiarism.  Cousin  Homer 
you  must  note  was  an  old  blind  Ballad  Singer  at  Athens, 
and  Avent  about  the  Country  there,  and  at  other  Places  in 
Greece,  singing  his  Ballads  from  Door  to  Door  ;  only  with 
this  Difference,  that  the  Ballads  he  sung  were  generally  of 
his  own  making.  Hence  I  suppose  it  vvas,  that  one  of  the 
same  Profession  here  in  London, — who,  tho'  blind  too, 
made  his  own    Ballads, — was   so   universally   called    Old 


520  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

Homer.  But  says  my  Friend,  this  Homer,  in  process  of 
Time,  when  he  had  gotten  some  Fame, — and  perhaps  more 
Money  than  Poets  ought  to  be  trusted  with, — grew  Lazy 
and  Knavish,  and  got  one  Andronicus  a  Spartan,  and  one 

Dr.  S 1,  a  Philosopher  of  Athens,  both  pretty  good  Poets, 

but  less  eminent  than  himself,  to  make  his  Songs  for 
him  ;  which,  they  being  poor  and  starving,  did  for  him 
for  a  small  Matter.  And  so,  the  Poet  never  did  much 
himself,  only  published  and  sold  his  Ballads  still,  in  his 
own  Name,  as  if  they  had  been  his  own  ;  and  by  that,  got 
great  Subscriptions,  and  a  high  Price  for  them. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Appleiee,  if  my  Friend  be  in  the  right,  was 
not  Cousin  Homer  a  Knave,  for  imposing  thus  upon  the 
Grecian  World  'i  In  a  Word,  it  seems  to  me  that  Old 
Homer,  was  a  mere  Mr.  P("p^),  and  Mr.  PC'p'^),  in  that 
Particular,  a  mere  Homer  ;  so  that  there's  ne'er  a  Barrel 
the   better    Herring,   except   the   Master   Manufacturer; 

who,  like  a  Bawd  to  a ,  knew  the  Fraud,  and  imposed 

it  upon  his  Customers,  and  so  has  been  worse  than  both 
of  them.  Your  Servant,  Anti-Pope."  '  (Lee,  vol.  iii., 
p.  409.) 

The  journals  in  which  Defoe  was  interested  have  already 
passed  under  review.  And  so  may  we  see  the  instruments 
with  which,  and  by  means  of  which,  Harley  was  enabled 
to  compass  the  gigantic  gcime  which  he  j^layed  with  the 
books — namely,  "  The  Battle  of  the  Books." 

Have  we  here  a  knavish  attempt  to  carry  out  his  own, 
or  a  muddled  one,  to  carry  out  a  Baconian  scheme  ?  or 
did  it  partake  of  both  elements?  * 

The  article  by  the  mentioned  title — viz.,  "The  Battle  of 


'  To  all  of  these  articles  Mr.  Lee  lias  himself  supplied  titles,  as  he 
tells  us.  This  one  is  entitled  "  On  Pope's  Translation  of  Homer." 
Bacon  says  :  "  Surely  of  those  poets  which  are  now  extant,  even 
Homer  himself  (notwithstanding  he  was  made  a  kind  of  Scripture 
by  the  later  schools  of  the  Grecians),  yet  I  should  without  any  diffi- 
culty pronounce  that  his  fables  had  no  such  inwardness  in  his  own 
meaning  ;  but  what  they  might  have  upon  a  more  original  tradition, 
is  not  easy  to  affirm  ;  for  he  was  not  the  inventor  of  many  of  them." 
(Phil  Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  345.)  Bacon's  statement  at  p.  428,  note  1, 
w^as  made  in  connection  with  the  works  of  Homer.     And  see  p.  460. 

-  Tliese  questions,  as  w^ell  as  that  embraced  hi  the  thought  that 
Harley  may  have  formed  but  one  in  a  knot  of  men  interested  in  the 
great  design,  arc  matters  to  be  considered  by  themselves. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  531 

the  Books" — is  indeed  a  most  subtle  piece  of  work,  and  lias 
for  its  ruling  idea  Bacon's  comparison  of  his  own  methods 
with  the  ancients  ;'  and  secondly,  a  side  issue  by  Avhich 
he  is  represented  as  cast  from  his  Empire — his  Dukedom 
of  The  Tempest.  Criticism  had  begun  upon  the  Novum 
Organum  upon  the  eve  of  his  fall,  and  as  well  at  Rome  as 
elsewhere. - 

In  this  article,  as  in  the  play  of  The  Tempest,  two 
courses  appear  :  1.  As  between  the  ancients  and  moderns  ; 
and  2.  A  side  issue  between  the  spider,  who  is  said  to  spin 
all  out  of  himself,  and  the  bee,  whom  Bacon,  while  not 
etrictly  of  either  party,  though  a  modern,  personates  ; 
and  who  in  his  discourse  with  the  spider  makes  allusion  to 
the  spider's  foreign  assistance  in  casting  him.  The  Battle 
is  represented  as  having  begun  in  St.  James'  Library.* 
Touching  this  side  issue,  we  from  the  mentioned  article 
quote  as  follows  : 

"  Things  were  at  this  crisis  when  a  material  accident 

'  On  p.  3  of  the  article  it  is  said  :  "  But  tlie  issues  or  events  of 
this  war  are  not  so  easy  to  conjecture  at  ;  for  the  present  quarrel  is 
so  inflamed  by  the  warm  heads  of  either  faction,  and  the  preten- 
sions somewhere  or  other  so  exorbitant,  as  not  to  admit  the  least 
overtures  of  accommodation.  This  quarrel  tirst  began,  as  I  have 
heard  it  allirmed  by  an  old  dweller  in  the  neighborhood,  about  a 
small  spot  of  ground,  lying  and  being  upon  one  of  the  two  tops  of 
the  hill  Parnassus  ;  the  highest  and  largest  of  which  had,  it  seems, 
been  time  out  of  mind  in  quiet  possession  of  certain  tenants,  called 
the  Ancients;  and  the  other  was  held  by  the  Moderns."  As  to 
Parnassus,  please  see  Defoe's  "  Consolidator,"  pp.  222-27  ;  Addi- 
son, vol.  iv.,  pp.  221-24,  and  vol.  v.,  pp.  214-27.  Bacon  says  : 
"  For  as  for  appetite,  the  waters  of  Parnassus  are  not  like  the  waters 
of  the  Spaw,  that  give  a  stomach  ;  but  rather  tliey  quench  appetite 
and  desire."     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p.  345.) 

'■'  King  James  in  a  kind  of  profane  jest  said  of  the  Novum  Or- 
ganum, that  "  it  is  like  the  peace  of  God — it  passeth  all  understand- 
ing."     And  Coke  in  a  copy  sent  to  him  wrote  : 

"  It  deserveth  not  to  be  read  in  schools. 
But  to  be  freighted  in  a  ship  of  Fools." 

By  a  Catholic  bishop  Bacon  had  been  drawn  into  defining  his  posi- 
tion.    See  pp.  64  and  112. 

^  In  his  last  will  Bacon  says  :  "  But  as  to  the  durable  part  of  my 
memory,  which  consisteth  in  my  works  and  writings,  I  desire  my 
executors,  and  especially  Sir  John  Constable  and  my  very  good 
friend  Mr.  Bosvile,  to  take  care  that  of  all  my  writings,  both  in 
English  and  Latin,  there  may  be  books  fair  bound,  and  placed  in  the 
King's  library,  and  in  the  library  of  the  university  of  Cambridge." 
etc.     (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  p.  539.) 


522  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

fell  out.  For  upon  the  liighest  corner  of  a  large  window 
there  dwelt  a  certain  spider,  swollen  up  to  the  tirst  mag- 
nitude by  the  destruction  of  infinite  numbers  of  flies, 
whose  spoils  lay  scattered  before  the  gates  of  his  palace, 
like  human  bones  before  the  cave  of  some  giant.  The 
avenues  to  his  castle  were  guarded  with  turnpikes  and 
palisadoes,  allafter  the  modern  way  of  fortification.  After 
you  had  passed  several  courts  you  came  to  the  centre, 
wherein  you  might  behold  the  constable  himself  in  his 
own  lodgings,  which  had  windows  fronting  to  each  avenue, 
and  ports  to  sally  out  upon  all  occasions  of  prey  or  de- 
fence. In  this  mansion  he  had  for  some  time  dwelt  in 
peace  and  plenty,  without  danger  to  his  person  by  the 
swallows'  from  above,  or  to  his  palace  by  brooms^  from 
below  ;  when  it  was  the  pleasure  of  fortune  to  conduct 
thither  a  wandering  bee,  to  whose  curiosity  a  broken  pane 
in  the  glass  had  discovered  itself,  and  in  he  went  ;  where, 
expatiating  a  while,  he  at  last  happened  to  alight  upon 
one  of  the  outward  walls  of  the  spider's  citadel  ;  which, 
yielding  to  the  unequal  weight,  sunk  down  to  the  very 
foundation.  Thrice  he  endeavoured  to  force  his  passage, 
and  thrice  the  centre  shook  The  spider  within,  feeling 
the  terrible  convulsion,  supposed  at  first  that  nature  was 
approaching  to  her  final  dissolution  ;  or  else,  that  Beelze- 
bub, with  all  his  legions,  was  come  to  revenge  the  death 
of  many  thousands  of  his  subjects  whom  his  enemy  had 
slain  and  devoured.  However,  he  at  length  valiantly  re- 
solved to  issue  forth  and  meet  his  fate.  Meanwhile  the 
bee  had  acquitted  himself  of  his  toils,  and,  posted  securely 
at  some  distance,  was  employed  in  cleaning  his  wings,  and 
disengaging  them  from  the  ragged  remnants  of  the  cob- 
web. By  this  time  the  spider  was  adventured  out,  when, 
beholding  the  chasms,  the  ruins,  and  dilaj^idations  of  his 
fortress,  he  was  very  near  at  his  wits'  end  ;  he  stormed 
and  swore  like  a  madman,  and  swelled  till  he  was  ready  to 
burst.  At  length,  casting  his  eye  upon  the  bee,  and 
"wisely  gathering  causes  from  events  (for  they  knew  each 
other  by  sight)  :  A  plague  split  you,  said  he,  for  a  giddy 

'  Promus,  536.     (Allow  no  swallows  under  thy  roof.     Interpreted 
by  Hieronymus  of  garrulous  and  gossiping  persons.) 

'•■^  Promus,  888.  (Broken  up  brooms.  Said  of  the  disorderly  and 
worthless,  who  can  be  put  to  no  use.)  In  Gulliver's  Travels,  at  p. 
231,  a  broom  is  said  to  signify  "  a  revolution."     See  p.  455. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  523 

son  of  a  wlioi-e  ;  is  it  yon,  with  a  vengeance,  that  have 
made  this  litter  here  ?  could  you  not  look  before  you,  and 
be  d— d  ?  do  you  think  I  have  nothing  to  do  (in  the  devil's 
name)  but  to  mend  and  repair  after  your  arse?— Good 
words,'  friend,  said  the  bee  (having  now  pruned  himself, 
and  being  disposed  to  droll)  :  I'll  give  you  my  hand  and 
word  to  come  near  your  kennel  no  more  ;  I  was  never  in 
such  a  confounded  pickle  since  I  was  born.— Sirrah,  re- 
plied the  spider,  if  it  were  not  for  breaking  an  old  custom 
in  our  family,  never  to  stir  abroad  against  an  enemy,  I 
should  come  and  teach  you  better  manners.— I  pray  have 
patience,  said  the  bee,  or  you'll  spend  your  substance,  and, 
for  aught  I  see,  you  may  stand  in  need  of  it  all,  tovvaid 
the  repair  of  your  house.— Rogue,  rogue,  replied  the 
spider,  yet  methinks  you  should  have  more  respect  to  a 
person  whom  all  the  world  allows  to  be  so  much  your  bet- 
ters.—By  my  troth,'  said  the  bee,  the  comparison  will 
amount  to  a  very  good  jest  ;  and  you  will  do  me  a  favour 
to  let  me  know  the  reasons  that  all  the  world  is  pleased  to 
use  in  so  hopeful  a  dispute.  At"  this  the  spider,  having 
swelled  himself  into  the  size  and  posture  of  a  disputant, 
began  his  argument  in  the  true  spirit  of  controversy,  with 
resolution  to  be  heartily  scurrilous  and  angry  to  urge  on 
his  own  reasons,  without  the  least  regard  to  the  answer  or 
objections  of  his  opposite  ;  and  fully  predetermined  in 
his  mind  against  all  conviction. 

"  Not  to  disparage  myself,  said  he,  by  the  comparison 
with  such  a  rascal,  what' art  thou  but  a  vagabond  without 
home  or  house,  without  stock  or  inheritance?  born  to  no 
possession  of  your  own,  but  a  pair  of  wings  and  a  drone- 
pipe.  Your  livelihood  is  a  universal  plunder  upon  na- 
ture ;  a  freebooter  over  fields  and  gardens  ;  and,  for  the 

'  Throughout  there  will  be  found  a  distinct  individuality  in  the 
expression  "good  words."  Promus,  4.  (I  was  silent  from  good 
words,  and  my  grief  was  renewed.)  In  Measure  for  Measure,  Act 
iii.,  sc.  1,  p.  76,  we  have  : 

"  Isab.  I  have  heard  of  the  lady,  and  good  words  went  with  her 
name." 

And  we  find  Bacon  using  the  words  "  good  hopes,"  "  good  offices, " 
"  good  wishes,"  "good  thoughts,"  "good  quiet,"  "good  spare," 
etc      As  to  this  last  expression,  sec  p.  383. 

'■'Promus,  966. 'Time  trieth  troth.  (Tempus  arguit  amicum.— 
Eras.  Ad.,  104.  Time  is  t/ie  invof  of  a  friend.)  We  have  already 
called  attention  to  Bacon's  use  of  this  word,  as  well  as  its  use 
throughout  the  plays.    See  p.  183. 


52-4  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

sake  of  stealing  will  rob  a  nettle'  as  easily  as  a  violet. 
Whereas  I  ara  a  domestic  animtil,  furnished  with  a  native 
stock  within  myself.  This  large  castle  (to  show  my  im- 
provements in  the  mathematics'')  is  all  built  with  my  own 
hands,  and  the  materials  extracted  altogether  out  of  my 
own  person.^ 

"  1  am  glad,  answered  the  bee,  to  hear  you  grant  at 
least  that  1  am  come  honestly  by  my  wings  and  my  voice  ; 
for  then,  it  seems,  I  am  obliged  to  Heaven  alone  for  my 
flights  and  my  music  ;  and  Providence  could  never  have 
bestowed  on  me  two  such  gifts,  without  designing  them  for 
the  noblest  ends.  I  visit  indeed  all  the  flowers  and  blos- 
soms of  the  field  and  garden  ;  but  whatever  I  collect 
thence  enriches  myself,  without  the  least  injury  to  their 
beauty,  their  smell,  or  their  taste.*  Now,  for  you  and 
your  skill  in  architecture  and  other  mathematics,  I  have 
little  to  say  :  in  that  building  of  yours  there  might,  for 
aught  I  know,  have  been  labour  and  method  enough  ;  but, 
by  woeful  experience  for  us  both,  it  is  too  plain  the  mate- 
rials are  nought  ;  and  I  hope  you  will  henceforth  take 
warning,  and  consider  duration  and  matter,  as  well  as 
method  and  art.  Yon  boast  indeed  of  being  obliged  to  no 
other  creature,  but  of  drawing  and  spinning  out  all  from 
yourself  ;  that  is  to  say,  if  we  may  judge  of  the  liquor  in 
the  vessel  by  what  issues  out,  you  j^ossess  a  good  plentiful 
store  of  dirt  and  poison  in  your  breast  ;  and,  though  I 
would  by  no  means  lessen  or  disparage  your  genuine  stock 

'  Bacon  was  wont  to  apply  this  word  "  nettle"  to  tlie  Papists,  as 
we  have  seen  at  pp.  301  and  827. 

■•*  Here  see  ch.  4  of  Gulliver's  Travels,  pp.  213-17. 

3  Promus,  797a.  (He  fabricated  out  of  himself  like  a  spider.) 
Please  see  Novuni  Organum,  Aph.  95,  Book  2. 

*  Bacon  was  wont  to  say  :  "  Tlie  empirical  philosophers  arc  like  to 
pismires  ;  they  only  lay  up  and  use  their  store.  The  Rationalists 
are  like  to  spiders  ;  they  spin  all  out  of  their  own  bowels.  But  give 
me  a  philosopher,  who  like  the  bee,  hath  a  middle  faculty,  gathering 
from  abroad,  biit  digesting  that  which  is  gathered  Ijy  his  own 
virtue."  (Bacon's  Literary  Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  177.)  And  fail  not 
to  read  in  this  connection  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  pp.  286-96  and  304-8. 
And  in  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  vol.  i.,  p.  11,  we  have  :  "  As  a 
good  housewife  out  of  divers  fleeces  weaves  one  piece  of  cloih,  a 
bee  gathers  wax  and  honey  out  of  many  flowers,  and  makes  a  new 
bundle  of  all."  In  Addison  we  have  :  "  The  tenth  and  last  species 
of  women  were  made  out  of  the  bee  :  and  happy  is  the  man  who 
gets  such  an  one  for  his  wife."  See  the  article  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p. 
88. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  535 

of  either,  yet  I  doubt  you  are  somewhat  obliged,  for  an 
increase  of  both,  to  a  little  foreign  assistance.^  _  Your 
inherent  portion  of  dirt  does  not  fail  of  acquisitions,  by 
sweepings  exhaled  from  below  ;  and  one  insect  furnishes 
you  with  a  share  of  poison  to  destroy  another.  So  that, 
in  short,  the  question  comes  all  to  tins  ;  whether  is  the 
nobler  being  of  the  two,  that  which,  by  a  lazy  contem- 
plation of  four  inches  round,  by  an  overweening  pride, 
feeding  and  engendering  on  itself,  turns  all  into  excrement 
and  venom,  producing  nothing  at  all  but  fly-bane  and  a 
cobweb  ;  or  that  which,  by  a  universal  range,  with  long 
search,  much  study,  true  judgment,  and  distinction  of 
things,  brings  home  honey  and  wax. 

''This  dispute  was  managed  with  such  eagerness, 
clamour,  and  warmth,  that  the  two  parties  of  books,  in 
arms  below,"  stood  silent  awhile,  waiting  in  suspense 
what  would  be  the  issue  ;  which  was  not  long  undeter- 
mined ;  for  the  bee,  grown  impatient  at  so  much  loss  of 
time,  fled  straight  away  to  a  bed  of  roses,  without  looking 
for  a  reply,  and  left  the  spider,  like  an  orator,  collected  in 
himself,  and  Just  prepared  to  burst  out. 

"  It  happened  upon  this  emergency  that  ^sop  broke 
silence  first.  He  had  been  of  late  most  barbarously  treated 
by  a  strange  effect  of  the  regent's  humanity,  who  had  torn 
off  liis  title-page,  sorely  defaced  one  half  of  his  leaves,  and 
chained  him  fast  among  the  shelf  of  moderns.  Where, 
soon  discovering  how  high  the  quarrel  was  likely  to  pro- 
ceed, he  tried  all  his  arts,  and  turned  himself  to  a  thou- 
sand forms.  At  length,  in  the  borrowed  shape  of  an  ass, 
the  regent  mistook  him  for  a  modern  ;  by  which  means 
he  had  time  and  opportunity  to  escape  to  the  ancients, 
just  when  the  spider  and  the  bee  were  entering  into  their 
contest  ;  to  which  he  gave  his  attention  with  a  world  of 
l^leasure,  and  when  it  was  ended,  swore  in  the  loudest  key 
that  in  all  his  life  he  had  never  known  two  cases  so  par- 
allel and  adapt  to  each  other  as  that  in  the  window  and 
this  upon  the   shelves.^     The  disputants,   said    he,  have 

'  Is  this  an  allusion  to  Buckingham's  aid  from  Spain  or  the  Pa- 
pists in  Bacon's  overthrow? 

^  The  brooms  were  what  the  spider  had  to  fear  from  below,  as  we 
have  seen. 

'  The  controversy  in  the  window  was  the  side  issue,  wMiile  that 
upon  the  shslvos  was  the  chief  one,  the  one  between  the  ancients  and 
moderns.    See  in  this  connection  the  short  oration  by  Addison  in  favor 


526  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRIKTH. 

admirably  managed  the  dispute  between  them,  have  taken 
in  the  full  strength  of  all  that  is  to  be  said  on  both  sides, 
and  exhausted  the  substance  of  every  argument  pro  and 
con.  It  is  but  to  adjust  the  reasonings  of  both  to  the 
present  quarrel,  then  to  compare  and  apply  the  labours 
and  fruits  of  each,  as  the  bee  has  learnedly  deduced  them, 
and  we  shall  find  the  conclusion  fall  plain  and  close  upon 
the  moderns  and  us.  For  pray,  gentlemen,  v/as  ever  any- 
thing so  modern  as  the  spider  in  his  air,  his  tui-ns,  and 
his  paradoxes  ?  he  argues  in  the  behalf  of  you,  his  brethren, 
and  himself  with  many  boastings  of  his  native  stock  and 
great  genius  ;  that  he  spins  and  spits  wholly  from  himself, 
and  scorns  to  own  any  obligation  or  assistance  from  v/ith- 
out.  Then  he  displays  to  you  his  great  skill  in  architec- 
ture and  improvement  in  the  mathematics.  To  all  this 
the  bee,  as  an  advocate  retained  by  us  the  ancients,  thinks 
fit  to  answer,  that,  if  one  may  judge  of  the  great  genius 
or  inventions  of  the  moderns  by  what  they  have  produced, 
you' will  hardly  have  countenance  to  bear  you  out  in  boast- 
ing of  either.  Eiect  your  schemes  with  as  much  method 
and  skill  as  you  please  ;  yet,  if  the  materials  be  nothing 
but  dirt,  spun  out  of  your  own  entrails  (the  guts  of  mod- 
ern brains),  the  edifice  will  conclude  at  last  m  a  cobweb  ; 
the  duration  of  which,  like  that  of  other  spiders'  webs, 

of  the  new  philosophy.  (Addison,  vol.  vi.,  pp.  607-13.)  On  p.  610 
we  have  :  '  On  no  such  grounds  as  these  has  Aristotle  built  his 
philosophy,  who  from  his  own  brain  furnished  out  all  his  rules  of 
arts  and  sciences,  and  left  nothing  untouched  on,  nothing  unre- 
garded, but  truth."  And  again  :  "  After  Aristotle's  fate  amidst  the 
waves  of  Euripus,  a  new  race  of  Peripatetics  started  up,  even  worse 
than  their  founder,  who  handed  their  philosophy  to  after  ages  in  so 
thick  an  obscurity  that  it  has  preserved  it  from  the  satire  and 
ridicule  of  all  mankind,  being  understood  by  very  few.  Some  there 
are  to  be  found  who  spend  their  time  amidst  the  rubbish  M'hich 
these  commentators  have  tilled  the  world  with,  and  pore  more  than 
once  on  these  godlike  treasures  of  learning,  and  stick  to  them  to  no 
other  purpose  unless  to  show  the  world  the  vast  pains  they  take  of 
being  deceived."  In  this  article  we  tind  Bacon's  expression  "  troop 
of  forms,"  and  his  sharp  and  distinctly  marked  opinion  as  to  Aristotle. 
And  yet  at  p.  725  the  reputed  author  of  this  masteily  oration 
and  literature  is  said  never  to  have  been  able  to  saj'  a  word  in  Par- 
liament. While  he  was  Secretary  of  State  it  is  said,  p.  728  :  "  It  was 
his  otlicial  business  to  write  to  Ilanover  that  Queen  Anne  was  dead  : 
he  found  it  so  ditficiilt  to  express  himself  suitably  to  his  own  notions 
of  the  importance  of  (he  event,  that  the  lords  of  the  regency  were 
obliged  to  employ  a  Mr.  Southwell,  one  of  the  clerks." 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  6^7 

may  be  imputed  to  their  being  forgotten,  or  neglected,  or 
hid  in  a  corner.'  For  anything  else  of  genuine  that  the 
moderns  may  pretend  to,  I  canot  recollect  ;  unless  it  be 
a  large  vein  of  wrangling  and  satire,  much  of  a  nature 
and  substance  with  the  spider's  poison  ;  which,  however, 
they  pretend  to  spit  wholly  out  of  themselves,  is  improved 
by  the  same  arts,  by  feeding  upon  the  insects  and  vermin 
of  the  age.  As  for  the  ancients,  we  are  content,  with  the 
bee,  to  pretend  to  nothing  of  our  own  beyond  our  wings 
and  our  voice  :  that  is  to  say,  our  fliglits  and  our  lan- 
guage. For  the  rest,  whatever  we  have  got  has  been  by 
infinite  labour  and  search,  and  ranging  through  every 
corner  of  nature  ;  the  difference  is,  that,  instead  of  dirt 
and  poison,  we  have  rather  chosen  to  fill  our  hives  with 
honey  and  wax  ;  thus  furnishing  mankind  with  the  two 
noblest  things,  which  are  sweetness  and  light, "  (Swift, 
pp.  176-181.) 

And  on  p.  182  we  have  : 

"  All  things  violently  tending  to  a  decisive  battle. 
Fame,  who  much  frequented,  and  had  a  large  apartment 
formerly  assigned  her  in  the  regal  library,  fled  up  straight 
to  Jupiter,  to  whom  she  delivered  a  faithful  account  of 
all  that  passed  between  the  two  parties  below  ;  for  among 
the  gods  she  always  tells  truth.*  Jove,  in  great  concern, 
convokes  a  council  in  the  milky  way.  The  senate  as- 
sembled, he  declares  the  occasion  of  convening  them  ;  a 
bloody  battle  just  impendent  between  two  mighty  armies 
of  ancient  and  modern  creatures,  called  books,  wherein  the 
celestial  interest  was  but  too  deeply  concerned.    Momus,* 

1  See  ch.  5  of  Gulliver's  Travels,  pp.  217-25.  In  Book  1  of  the  De 
Aut^mentis  we  have  :  "For  the  human  mind,  if  it  act  upon  matter, 
and  contemplates  the  nature  of  things,  and  the  works  of  God,  operates 
according  to  the  stuff,  and  is  limited  thereby  ;  but  if  it  works  upon 
itself,  as  the  spider  does,  then  it  has  no  end  ;  but  produces  cobwebs 
of  learning,  aduiiral)le  indeed  for  the  tineness  of  the  thread,  but  of 
no  substance  or  profit."  Note  in  Addison  and  in  the  plays  tlie  many 
references  to  the  ' '  spider"  and  the  ' '  bee. "  As  to  the  ' '  bee, ' '  see  Henry 
v.,  Act  i.,  sc.  2,  p.  472.  And  in  a  Midsummer-Night's  Dream,  Act.  iv., 
sc.  1,  p.  327,  we  have  : 

"But.  Monsieur  Cobweb,  good  monsieur,  get  your  weapon  in  your 
hand,  and  kill  me  a  red-hipp'd  humble-bee  on  the  top  of  a  thistle  ; 
and,  good  monsieur,  bring  me  the  honey-bag." 

^  Promus,  329.  (The  Father  [?  Jupiter]  is  favorable  to  either 
destiny.) 

*  See  what  Bacon  says  concerning  Momus,  p.  86.     And  in  his 


528  THREAD    OF   THE    LABTRINTH. 

the  patron  of  the  moderns,  made  an  excellent  speech  in 
their  favour,  which  was  answered  by  Pallas,'  the  protec- 
tress of  the  ancients.  The  assembly  was  divided  in  their 
affections  ;  and  Jupiter  commanded  the  book  of  fate  to  be 
laid  before  him.  Immediately  were  bronght  by  Mercury 
three  large  volumes  in  folio,  containing  memoirs  of  all 
things  past,  present,  and  to  come.  The  clasps  were  of 
silver  double  gilt,  the  covers  were  of  celestial  turkey 
leather,  and  the  paper  such  as  here  on  earth  might  pass 
almost  for  vellum.  Jupiter,  having  silently  read  the  de- 
cree, would  communicate  the  import  to  none,  but  pres- 
ently shut  up  the  book. 

"  Without  the  doors  of  this  aesembly  there  attended  a 
vast  number  of  light,  nimble  gods,  menial  servants  to 
Jupiter  :  these  are  his  ministering  instruments  in  all 
affairs  below.  They  travel  in  a  caravan,  more  or  less 
together,  and  are  fastened  to  each  other,  like  a  link  of 
galley-slaves,  by  a  light  chain,  which  passes  from  them  to 
Jupiter's  great  toe  :^  and  yet,  in  receiving  or  delivering  a 
message,  they  may  never  approach  above  the  lowest  step 
of  his  throne,  where  he  and  they  whisper  to  each  other 
through  a  large  hollow  trunk.  These  deities  are  called 
by  mortal  men  accidents  or  events  ;  but  the  gods  call 
them  second  causes/     Jupiter  having  delivered  his  mes- 

E'^say  entitled  "  Of  Building,  "he  says  :  "  Neither  is  it  ill  air  only  that 
maketli  an  ill  seat,  but  ill  ways,  ill  markets  ;  and  if  you  will  consult 
with  Momus,  ill  neighbors.''  As  to  Momus  and  the  window  in  the 
breast,  see  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  196,  the  introduction  to  the  Anatomy 
of  Melancholy,  vol.  i.,  p.  55,  and  see  introductory  matter  to  the 
A.  D.  B.  Maf-k. 

•  As  to  Pallas,  please  see,  in  ch.  13  of  Book  2  of  the  De  Augmentis, 
Bacon's  interpretation  of  the  fable  of  "Perseus,  or  War."  For 
battles  this  was  the  model.  This  battle  was  probably  designed  to 
represent  the  overthrow  of  the  old  and  the  establishment  of  the  new 
order  of  things  under  the  Baconian  system. 

^  Bacon  says  :  "  For  on  the  threshold  of  philosophy,  wliere  second 
causes  appear  to  absorb  the  attention,  some  oblivion  of  the  highest 
cause  may  ensue  ;  but  when  the  mind  goes  deeper,  and  sees  tJie 
dependence  of  causes  and  the  works  of  Providence,  it  will  easily 
perceive,  according  to  the  mythology  of  the  poets,  that  the  upper 
link  of  Nature's  chain  is  fastened  to  Jupiter's  throne."  (De  Aug- 
mentis, Bohn  ed..  Book  1,  p.  32.) 

^  See  the  word  Providence  as  used  in  connection  with  the  play  of 
The  Tempest.  Bacon  says  :  "  For  certain  it  is  that  God  worketh 
nothing  in  nature  but  by  second  causes  ;  and  if  they  would  have  it 
otherwise  believed,  it  is  mere  imposture,  as  it  were  in  favour  towards 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  529 

sage  to  a  certain  number  of  these  divinities,  they  flew  im- 
mediately down  to  the  pinnacle  of  the  regal  library,  and 
consnlting  a  few  minutes,  entered  unseen,  and  disposed 
the  parties  according  to  their  orders. 

"  Meanwhile  Momus,  fearing  the  worst,  and  calling  to 
mind  an  ancient  prophecy  which  bore  no  very  good  face 
to  his  children  the  moderns,  beat  his  flight  to  the  region 
of  a  malignant  deity  called  Criticism,^  She  dwelt  on  the 
top  of  a  snowy  mountain  in  Nova  Zembla  ;  there  Momus 
found  her  extended  in  her  den,  upon  the  spoils  of  number- 
less volumes,  half  devoured.  At  her  right  hand  sat  Igno- 
rance, her  father  and  husband,  blind  with  age  ;  at  her 
left,  Pride,  lier  mother,  dressing  her  up  in  the  scraps  of 
paper  herself  had  torn.  There  was  opinion,  her  sister, 
light  of  foot,  hoodwinked,  and  headstrong,  yet  giddy  and 
perpetually  turning.  About  her  played  lier  children, 
Noise  and  Impudence,  Dulness  and  Vanity,  Positiveness, 
Pedantry,  and  Ill-manners.  The  goddess  herself  had 
claws  like  a  cat ;  her  head,  and  ears,  and  voice,  resembled 
those  of  an  ass  ;  her  teeth  fallen  out  before,  her  eyes 
turned  inward,  as  if  she  looked  only  upon  herself  ;  her 
diet  was  the  overflowing  of  her  own  gall  :  her  spleen  was 
so  large  as  to  stand  prominent,  like  a  dug  of  the  first 
rate  ;"■'  nor  wanted  excresceucies  in  form  of  teats,  at  which 


God  ;  and  nothing  else  but  to  offer  to  the  author  of  truth  the  unclean 
sacritice  of  a  lie."  (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  267.)  In  tlie  Serious 
Rctiections  of  Crusoe,  p.  9,  we  have  :  "  All  motions  to  good  or  evil 
are  iu  the  soul.     Outward  objects  are  but  second  causes." 

'  In  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  149,  we  have  :  "  Envy  and  cavil  are  tha 
natural  fruits  of  laziness  and  ignorauce  ;  which  was  probably  the 
reason  that  in  the  heathen  mythology,  Momus  is  said  to  be  the  sou 
of  Nox,  and  Somnus  of  Dai'kness  and  Sh;ep.  Idle  men,  who  have 
not  been  at  tlie  pains  to  accomplish  or  distinguish  themselves,  are 
ever  apt  to  detract  from  others  ;  as  ignorant  men  are  very  subject  to 
decry  those  beauties  in  a  celebrated  work  which  they  have  not  eyes 
to  discover.  Many  of  our  sons  of  Momus,  who  dignify  themselves 
by  the  name  of  critics,  are  the  genuine  defendants  of  those  two 
illustrious  ancestors."  Any  number  of  these  relations  might  be 
introduced,  but  we  are  now  but  bounding  the  field  ;  nor  will  space 
permit  us  to  do  more  than  to  touch  upon  points  as  we  go. 

'■'  Bacon  in  cue  of  his  Apophthegms  says  :  "  Trojan  would  say, 
'  That  the  king's  exchequer  was  like  the  spleen  ;  for  when  that  did 
swell  the  whole  body  did  pine.'  "  (Bacon's  Literary  Works,  vol.  ii., 
p.  141.)  As  to  the  word  "  dug"  we  from  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  i., 
sc.  3,  p.  48,  quote  as  follows  : 


530  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

a  crew  of  ugly  monsters  were  greedily  sucking  ;  and,  what 
is  wonderful  to  conceive,  the  bulk  of  spleen  increased 
faster  than  the  sucking  could  diminish  it.  Goddess,  said 
Momus,  can  you  sit  idly  here  while  our  devout  worship- 
pers, the  moderns,  are  this  minute  entering  into  a  cruel 
battle,  and  perhaps  now  lying  under  the  swords  of  their 
enemies?  who  then  hereafter  will  sacrifice  or  build  altars 
to  our  divinities?'  Haste,  therefore,  to  the  British  isle, 
and,  if  possible,  prevent  their  destruction  :  while  I  make 
factions  among  the  gods,  and  gain  them  over  to  our  party.'' 

"  Momus,  having  thus  delivered  himself,  stayed  not  for 
an  answer,  but  left  the  goddess  to  her  own  resentment. 
Up  she  rose  in  a  rage,  and,  as  it  is  the  form  upon  such 
occasions,  began  a  soliloquy  :  It  is  I  (said  she)  who  gave 
wisdom  to  infants  and  idiots  ;  by  me  children  grew  wiser 
than  their  parents,  by  me  beaux  became  jjoliticians,  and 
school-boys  judges  of  philosophy  ;  by  me  sophisters  debate 
and  conclude  upon  the  depths  of  knowledge  ;  and  coffee- 
house wits,  instinct  by  me,  can  correct  an  author's  style, 
and  display  his  minutest  errors  without  understanding  a 
syllable  of  his  matter  or  his  language  ;  by  me  striplings 
spend  their  judgment,  as  they  do  their  estate,  before  it 
comes  into  their  hands.  It  is  I  who  have  deposed  wit  and 
knowledge  from  their  empire  over  poetry,  and  advanced 
myself  in  their  stead.  And  shall  a  few  upstart  ancients 
dare  to  oppose  me? — But  come,  my  aged  parent,  and  you, 
my  children  dear,  and  thou,  my  beauteous  sister  ;  let  us 
ascend  my  chariot,  and  haste  to  assist  our  devout  moderns, 
who  are  now  sacrificing  to  us  a  hecatomb,  as  I  perceive  by 
that  grateful  smell  which  from  thence  reaches  my  nostrils. 

"  The  goddess   and    her   train,    having    mounted    the 

"  Nay,  I  do  bear  a  brain : — but,  as  I  said, 
Whea  it  did  laste  the  wormwood  ou  the  nipple 
Of  my  dug,  and  felt  it  bitter,  pretty  fool ! 
To  see  it  tetchy,  and  fall  out  with  the  dug." 

'  This  was  Bacon's  battle  to  down  the  old  forms  and  superstitions 
of  men,  and  thus  to  make  way  for  the  more  permanent  advent  of 
his  philosophy. 

^  This  wais  to  be  done  by  the  side  issue  and  the  foreign  assistance. 
At  the  present  writing  we  are  of  the  impression  that  these  papers 
may  have  in  part  been  prepared  by  Bacon  prior  to  his  fall,  and 
which  necessitated  their  remodelling  to  suit  that  event,  and  hence 
the  side  issue  in  this  battle. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  531 

chariot,  whicli  was  drawn  by  tame  geese/  flew  over  in- 
finite regions,  shedding  her  influence  in  due  phices,  till 
at  length  she  arrived  at  her  beloved  island  of  Britain  ; 
but  in  hovering  over  its  metropolis,  what  blessings  did  she 
not  let  fall  upon  her  seminaries  of  Gresham  and  Covent- 
garden  !  And  now  she  reached  the  fatal  plain  of  St. 
James'  library,  at  what  time  the  two  armies  were  upon 
the  point  to  engage  :  where,  entering  with  all  her  caravan 
unseen  ;  and  landing  upon  a  case  of  shelves,  now  desert, 
but  once  inhabited  by  a  colony  of  virtuosoes,"  she  stayed 
a  while  to  observe  the  posture  of  both  armies. 

"  But  here  the  tender  cares  of  a  mother  began  to  fill 
her  thoughts  and  move  in  her  breast  :  for  at  the  head  of 
a  troop  of  modern  bowmen  she  cast  her  eyes  upon  her  son 
Wotton,'  to  whom  the  fates  had  assigned  a  very  short 
thread.  Wotton,  a  young  hero,  whom  an  unknown  father 
of  mortal  race  begot  by  stolen  embraces  with  this  goddess. 
He  was  the  darling  of  his  mother  above  all  her  children, 
and  she  resolved  to  go  and  comfort  him.  But  first,  ac- 
cording to  the  good  old  custom  of  deities,  she  cast  about 
to  change  her  sha])e,  for  fear  the  divinity  of.  her  counte- 
nance might  dazzle  his  mortal  sight  and  overcharge  the  rest 
of  his  senses.  She  therefore  gathered  up  her  person  into 
an  octavo  compass  :  her  body  grew  white  and  arid,  and 
split  in  pieces  with  dryness  fthe  thick  turned  into  paste- 
board, and  the  thin  into  paper  ;  upon  which  her  parents 

'  At  p.  455  we  see  that  a  flock  of  geese  means  "  a  senate." 

"  Note  the  oft  use  of  this  word  in  Addison. 

'  Is  this  an  allusion  to  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  to  whom  Bacon,  October 
20th,  1620,  wrote  thus  ? 

"  My  veky  Good  Colsin  :  The  letter  which  I  received  from  your 
Lordship  upon  vour  going  to  sea,  was  more  than  a  compensation 
for  any  former  omiss-ion  ;  and  I  sliall  ever  be  very  glad  to  entertain 
a  correspondence  with  vou  in  both  lands  which  you  write  of.  For 
tlie  latter,  I  am  now  ready  for  you,  having  sent  you  some  ore  of 
that  mine.  I  thank  vou  for  your  "favors  to  Mr.  Meautys,  and  I  pray 
continue  the  same.  "^So  wishing  you  out  of  your  honorable  exile, 
and  placed  in  a  better  orb,  I  rest,"  etc 

Wotton  was  a  man  of  letters,  and  was  at  this  time  upon  an  em- 
bassy in  Germany,  and  the  letter  is  said  to  have  been  accompanied 
with  three  copies  of  the  Novum  Organum.  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol. 
vii.,  "p  131.)  And  on  p.  451  it  will  appear  that  in  1628-24  Bucking- 
ham made  him  Provost  of  the  College  of  Eatnn,  a  position  much 
sought  by  Bacon.  See  Britannica  article  on  Wotton,  who  was  a 
favorite  diplomatist  of  James  the  First,  and  spent  eight  years  in 
Spain,  France,  and  Germany.     And  see  p.  521,  note  2. 


532  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRIXTH. 

and  children  artfully  strewed  a  black  juice,  or  decoction 
of  gall  and  soot,  in  form  of  letters  :  her  head,  and  voice, 
and  spleen,  kej^t  their  primitive  form  ;  and  that  which 
before  was  a  cover  of  skin  did  still  continue  so.  In  this 
guise  she  marched  on  towards  the  moderns,  undistinguish- 
able  in  shape  and  dress  from  the  divine  Bentley,  Wotton's 
dearest  friend.  Brave  Wotton,  said  the  goddess,  why  do 
our  troops  stand  idle  here,  to  spend  their  present  vigour 
and  opportunity  of  the  day  ?  away,  let  us  haste  to  the 
generals,  and  advise  to  give  the  onset  immediately.  Hav- 
ing spoken  thus,  she  took  the  ugliest  of  her  monsters,  full 
glutted  from  her  spleen,  and  flung  it  invisibly  into  his 
mouth,  which  flying  straight  up  into  his  head,  squeezed 
out  his  eye-balls,  gave  him  a  distorted  look,  and  half  over- 
turned his  brain.  Then  she  privately  ordered  two  of  her 
beloved  children,  Dulness  and  Ill-manners,  closely  to 
attend  his  person  in  all  encounters.  Having  thus  ac- 
coutred him,  she  vanished  in  a  mist,  and  the  hero  per- 
ceived it  was  the  goddess  his  mother.'" 

Bacon  upon  his  fall,  and  for  a  time,  was  doubtless 
somewhat  staggered  in  his  faith,  but  see  Sonnets  119  arud 
123,  pp.  28  and  105.  Let  it  here  be  investigated  as  to 
what  Othello  is  intended  to  personate  and  what  Des- 
demona.  From  Act  iv.,  sc.  2,  p.  523,  of  that  play  we 
quote  as  follows  : 

"  0th.  Had  it  pleas'd  Heaven 

To  try  me  with  afflict iou  ;  had  He  rain'd 
All  kinds  of  sores  and  shames  on  my  bare  head  ; 
Steep 'd  me  in  poverty  to  the  very  lips  ; 
Given  to  captivity  me  and  my  utmost  hopes  ; 
I  should  have  found  in  some  part  of  my  soul 

'  And  in  the  article  at  p.  190  we  have  :  "  Then  Pindar  darted  a 
javelin  so  large  and  weighty,  that  scarce  a  dozen  cavaliers,  as  cavaliers 
are  in  our  degenerate  days,  could  raise  it  from  the  ground  ;  yet  he 
threw  it  with  ease,  and  it  went,  by  an  unerring  hand,  singing  through 
the  air  ;  nor  could  the  modern  liave  avoided  present  death  if  he  had 
not  luckily  opposed  the  shield  that  had  been  given  him  by  Venus." 
Is  this  "  shield  "  an  allusion  to  the  sonnets  ?  See  p.  306.  Bacon  says  : 
"  Pindar,  in  his  praise  of  Hiero,  says,  with  his  usual  elegance,  that 
he  cropped  the  tops  of  every  virtue  ;  and  methinks  it  would  greatly 
contribute  to  the  encouragement  and  honour  of  mankind,  to  have 
these  tops,  or  utmost  extents  of  human  nature,  collected  from  faithful 
history  :  I  mean  the  greatest  length  whereto  human  nature  of  itself 
has  ever  gone,  in  the  several  endowments  of  body  and  mind."  (De 
Augmeutis,  ch.  1,  Book  4,  Bohn's  ed.,  p.  152.)    See  p.  158,  note  2. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  533 

A  drop  of  patience  :  but,  alas  I  to  make  me 

A  fixed  figure,  for  the  time  of  scorn 

To  point  his  slow  unmoving  finger  at  ;  — 

Yet  could  I  bear  that  too  ;  well,  very  well  : — 

But  there,  where  I  liave  garner'd  up  ray  heart ; 

Where  either  I  must  live,  or  bear  no  life  ; 

The  fountain  from  tlie  which  ray  current  runs, 

Or  else  dries  up  ;  to  be  discarded  thence. 

Or  keep  it  as  a  cistern,  for  foul  toads 

To  knot  and  gender  in  ! — turn  thy  complexion  there, 

Patience,  thou  young  and  rose-lipp'd  cherubim  ; 

Ay,  there,  look  grim  as  hell  1" 

At  p.  175  of  the  article  under  review  we  have  :  "  Here 
a  solitary  ancient,  squeezed  up  among  a  whole  shelf  of 
moderns,  offered  fairly  to  dispute  the  case,  and  to  prove 
by  manifest  reason  that  the  priority  was  due  to  them  from 
long  possession,  and  in  regard  to  their  prudence,  an- 
tiquity, and,  above  all,  their  great  merits  towards  the 
moderns.  But  these  denied  the  premises,  and  seemed 
very  much  to  wonder  how  the  ancients  could  i)retend  to 
insist  upon  their  antiquity,  when  it  was  so  plain  (if  they 
went  to  that)  that  the  moderns  were  much  the  more 
ancient  of  the  two.  As  for  any  obligations  they  owed  to 
the  ancients,  they  renounced  them  all.  It  is  true,  said 
they,  we  are  informed  some  few  of  our  party  have  been  so 
mean  to  borrow  their  substance  from  you  ;  but  the  rest, 
infinitely  the  greater  number  (and  especially  we  French 
and  English),  were  so  far  from  stooping  to  so  base  an 
example,  that  thej-e  never  passed,  till  this  very  hour,  six 
words  between  us." 

Here,  again,  we  have  Bacon's  distinctive  views  as  to  the 
moder)is  being  the  true  ancients,  and  as  presented  in  con- 
nection with  the  word  "old"  in  Sonnet  59.  See  pp. 
96-99. 

In  order  to  conform  this  article  to  the  times  it  has  been 
tampered  with,  and  some  further  than  by  the  mere  sub- 
stitution of  names.  Aside  from  the  "  chasms"  left  in  the 
manuscript,  there  are,  we  think,  omissions  that  break 
relations. 

We  here  turn  to  the  Defoe  work  entitled  "  The  Con- 
solidator  ;  or,  Memoirs  of  Sundry  Transactions  from  the 
World  in  the  Moon,"  put  forth  by  Defoe  in  1705,  and 
where  in  the  expression  ''  chair  of  reflection"  we  have  an 
allusion,    we  think,   to  the  methods  of  the  Novum    Or- 


534  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

gannm.  From  pp.  258-67  of  the  work,  Talboy  ed.,  we 
quote  as  follows  : 

"  In  examining  the  multitude  and  variety  of  tliese  most 
admirable  glasses  for  the  assisting  the  optics,  or  indeed 
the  formation  of  a  new  perceptive  faculty,  it  was,  you 
may  be  sure,  most  surprising,  to  find  there  that  art  had 
exceeded  nature  ;  and  the  power  of  vision  was  assisted  to 
that  prodigious  degree,  as  even  to  distinguish  nonentity 
itself  ;  and  in  these  strange  engines  of  light  it  could  not 
but  be  very  pleasing,  to  distinguish  plainly  betwixt  being 
and  matter,  and  to  come  to  a  determination  in  the  so 
long-canvassed  dispute  of  substance,  vel  materialis,  vel 
spirifjialis ;  and  I  can  solidly  affirm,  that  in  all  our  con- 
tention between  entity  and  nonentity,  there  is  so  little 
worth  meddling  with,  that  had  we  had  these  glasses  some 
ages  ago,  we  should  have  left  troubling  our  heads  with  it. 

"  I  take  upon  me,  therefore,  to  assure  my  reader,  that 
M'hoever  pleases  to  take  a  journey,  or  voyage,  or  tlight,  up 
to  these  lunar  regions,  as  soon  as  ever  he  comes  ashore 
there,  will  presently  be  convinced  of  the  reasonableness  of 
immaterial  substance,  and  the  immortality,  as  well  as  the 
immateriality  of  the  soul  :'    he  will  no  sooner  look  into 

'  As  to  Bacon's  belief  in  the  soul  as  an  immateTial  substance,  see 
p.  261,  note  3.  He  also  says  :  "  For  as  the  substance  of  the  soul 
was  not,  in  its  creation,  extracted  or  deduced  from  the  mass  of 
heaven  and  earth,  but  immediately  inspired  by  God  ;  and  as  the 
laws  of  heaven  and  earth  are  the  proper  subjects  of  philosophy,  no 
knowledge  of  the  substance  of  the  rational  soul  can  be  had  from 
philosophy,  but  must  be  derived  from  the  same  Divine  inspiration, 
whence  the  substance  thereof  originally  proceeded."  (De  Augmen- 
tis,  Bohn  ed.,  ch.  3.  Book  4,  p.  173.)  In  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  104, 
we  have  :  "  His  substance  is  within  the  substance  of  every  being, 
whether  material  or  immaterial,  and  as  intimately  present  to  it,  as 
that  Being  is  to  itself.  It  would  be  an  imperfection  in  him,  were  he 
able  to  remove  out  of  one  place  into  another,  or  to  withdraw-  himself 
from  anything  he  has  created,  or  from  any  part  of  that  space  which 
is  diffused  and  spread  abroad  to  intiuity.  In  short,  to  speak  of  him 
in  the  language  of  the  old  philosopher,  he  is  a  Being  whose  centre  is 
everywhere,  and  whose  circumference  nowhere."  And  from  an 
article  beginning  on  p.  112  we  have  :  "  It  is,  indeed,  impossible  for 
an  intinite  Being  to  remove  himself  from  any  of  his  creatures,  but 
though  he  cannot  withdraw  his  essence  from  us,  which  would  argue 
an  imperfection  in  him,  he  can  withdraw  from  us  all  the  joj-s  and 
consolations  of  it.  His  presence  may,  perhaps,  be  necessary  to  sup- 
port us  in  our  existence  ;  but  he  may  leave  this  our  existence  to 
itself,  with  regard  to  its  happiness  or  misery.     For  in  this  sense,  he 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYUINTH.  535 

these  explicating  glasses,  but  lie  will  be  able  to  know  the 
separate  meaning  of  body,  soul,  spirit,  life,  motion,  death, 
and  a  thousand  things  that  wise  men  puzzle  themselves 
about  here,  because  they  are  not  fools  enough  to  under- 
stand.    .     .     . 

"As  to  seeing  beyond  death,  all  the  glasses  I  looked 
into  for  that  purpose,  made  but  little  of  it  ;  and  these 
were  the  only  tubes  that  I  found  defective  ;  for  here  I 
could  discern  nothing  but  clouds,  mists,  and  thick,  dark, 
hazy  weather  ;  but  revolving  in  my  mind,  that  I  had 
read  a  certain  book  in  our  own  country,  called  Nature, 
it  presently  occurrerl,  that  the  conclusion  of  it,  to  all  such 
as  gave  themselves  the  trouble  of  making  out  those  foolish 
things  called  inferences,  was  always.  Look  up  ;  uyion 
which,  turning  one  of  their  glasses  up,  and  erecting  tlie 
point  of  it  towards  the  zenith,  I  saw  these  words  in  the 
air  REVELATION  in  large  capital  letters. 

"  I  had  like  to  have  raised  the  mob  upon  me  for  looking 
upright  with  this  glass  ;  for  this,  they  said,  was  prying 
into  the  mysteries  of  the  great  eye'  of  the  world  ;  that  we 
ought  to  inquire  no  further  than  he  has  informed  us,  and 
to  believe  what  he  had  left  us  more  obscure  :  upon  this, 
I  laid  down  the  glasses,  and  concluded,  that  we  had  Moses 
and  the  prophets,  and  should  be  never  the  likelier  to  be 
taught  by  one  come  from  the  moon. 

"  In  short,  I  found,  indeed,  they  had  a  great  deal  more 
knowledge  of  things  than  we  in  this  world  ;  and  that 
nature,  science,  and  reason,  had  obtained  great  improve- 
ments in  the  lunar  world  ;  but  as  to  religion,  it  was  the 
same,  equally  resigned  to  and  concluded  in  faith  and  re- 
demption ;  so  I  shall  give  the  world  no  great  information 
of  these  things. 

"I  come  next  to  some  other  strange  acquirements  ob- 
tained by  the  helps  of  these  glasses  ;  and  particularly  for 
the  discovering  the  imperceptibles  of  nature  ;  such  as,  the 


may  cast  us  away  from  his  presence,  and  take  his  holy  spirit  from 
us."     See  also  article  pp.  128-33  and  143-48. 

'  Concerning  this  use  of  the  word  "  eye,"  we  quote  Bacon  as  fol- 
lows :  "  Civil  historj^,  in  general,  may  be  divided  into  three  particu- 
lar kinds,  viz..  sacred,  civil,  and  literary  ;  the  latter  whereof  being 
wanting,  the  history  of  the  world  appears  like  the  statue  of  Poly- 
phemus, without  itsjeye  ;  the  part  that  best  shows  the  life  and  spirit  of 
the  person."  (De  Augmentis,  Book  2,  ch.  4,  p.  84,  Bohued.)  See  p.  468. 


^36  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

soul,  tlionght,  honesty,  religion,  virginity,  and  a  hundred 
other  nice  things,  too  small  for  human  discerning. 

"  The  discoveries  made  by  these  glasses,  as  to  the  soul, 
are  of  a  very  diverting  variety  ;  some  hieroglyphical  and 
emblematical,  and  some  demonstrative. 

"  The  hieroglyphical  discoveries  of  the  soul  make  it 
appear  in  the  image  of  its  Maker  ;  and  the  analogy  is  re- 
markable, even  in  the  very  simile  ;  for  as  they  represent 
the  original'  of  nature  as  one  great  eye,"  illuminating  as 
well  as  discerning  all  things  ;  so  the  soul,  in  its  allegori- 
cal, or  hieroglyphical  resemblance,  appears  as  a  great  eye, 
embracing  the  man,  enveloping,  operating,  and  informing 
every  part ;  from  whence  those  sort  of  people  who  we  false- 
ly call  politicians,^  affecting  so  much  to  put  out  this  great 
eye,  by  acting  against  their  common  understandings,  are 
very  aptly  represented  by  a  great  eye  with  six  or  seven 
pair  of  spectacles  on  ;  not  but  that  the  eye  of  their  souls 
may  be  clear  enough  of  itself,  as  to  the  common  under- 
standing ;  but  that  they  happen  to  have  occasion  to  look 
sometimes  so  many  ways  at  once,  and  to  judge,  conclude, 
and  understand  so  many  contrary  ways  upon  one  and  the 
same  thing,  that  they  are  fain  to  put  double  glasses  upon 
their  understanding,  as  we  look  at  the  solar  eclipses,  to 
represent  them  in  different  lights,  lest  their  judgments 

'  To  this  Baconian  use  of  the  word  "  original  "  we  have  already 
called  attention.  Please  see  note  2,  p.  41.  We  here  give  its  tech- 
nical sense  of  use  by  the  master  hand.  Bacon  says  :  "  Next,  there- 
fore, let  us  seeii  the  dignity  of  knowledge  in  its  original  ;  that 
is,  in  the  attributes  and  acts  of  God,  so  far  as  they  are  revealed  to 
man,  and  may  be  observed  with  sobriety.  But  here  we  are  not  to 
seek  it  by  the  name  of  learning  ;  for  all  learning  is  knowledge  ac- 
quired, but  all  knowledge  in  God  is  original  :  we  must,  therefore, 
look  for  it  under  the  name  of  wisdom  or  sapience,  as  the  Scripture 
calls  it."     (De  Augmontis,  Book  1,  p.  54,  Bohu  ed.) 

^  From  Bacon's  Literary  "Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  177,  we  quote  as  fol- 
lows :  "  Sir  Francis  Bacon  (who  was  always  for  moderate  counsels) 
when  one  was  speaking  of  such  a  reformation  of  the  Church  of 
England  as  would  in  effect  make  it  no  Church  ;  said  thus  to  him, 
Sir,  the  subject  we  talk  of  is  the  eye  of  England ;  and  if  there  he  a, 
speck  or  two  in  the  eye,  we  endeavour  to  take  them  off ;  but  he  were  a 
strange  oculist  lolio  would  put  out  the  eye."    See  quotation,  p.  427. 

^  Bacon  says  :  "  And  this  holds  good  likewise  in  politics,  though 
the  glasses  are  different  ;  for  the  divine  glass  in  which  we  ought  to 
behold  ourselves  is  the  Word  of  God,  but  tlie  political  glass  is  noth- 
ing else  than  the  state  of  the  world  or  times  wliereiu  we  live."  (De 
Augmentis,  ch.  2,  Book  8.)  And  as  to  the  "  poUticians,"  see  our 
quotation  from  Bacon  at  p.  181. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 


537 


Should  not  be  wheedled  into  ^  «o/^?Pl^^^^«f  ;\^^;.flf  thf  em- 
rcsohitions  of  their  wills  ;  and  this  is  what  1  call  the  em 
bleraatic  representation  of  the  soul.  ■  l     ^^   ;*■  ;^ 

''As  for  the  demonstration  of  ^l^f  soul's  existence  it^s 
n  nhiin  case  by  these  explicative  glasses,  that  it  is  .some 
h.^-;  nXnded'  to  give  i4  the  parts  ;  and  we  have  h^^^^^^^ 
of  chirurgeons  that  could  read  an  anatomical  lecture  on 
L  pirtstf  the  soul  ;  and  these  pretend  it  to  be  a  crea  u 
in  form  whether  chameleon  or  salamander,  authois  na\e 
not  deTermined  ;  nor  is  it  completely  ^-overec^  when 
comes  into  the  body,  or  how  it  goes  out  oi  wheie  its 
locality  or  habitation  is,  while  it  is  a  resident. 

''But  they  very  aptly  show  it  like  a  prince  in  his  seat, 
in  the  middle  of  his  pfilace  the  brain,  issuing  out  his  m- 
cessnt  orders'  to  innumerable  troops^  of  nerves,  sinews, 
nrusces   tendons,  veins,  arteries,  fibres,  capilani,  and  use- 
?iroffice;   called  orgaJiici,  who  faithfully  execu  e  a  Uhe 
parts  of  sensation,  locomotion,  concoction    etc.,  and    n 
Ste  handred   thousandth  part  of  a  moment   return  with 
p  u-ticu  ar   messages  for   information,    and   demand  new 
P;"tnicl;ons.      K   any  part   of  his.  kingdom      he  body 
suffers  a  depredation,  or   an   invasion  of  the  enemy,  the 
expresses  fly  to  the  selit  of  the  soul,  the  brain    and  imme- 
dSy  are  ordered  back  to  smart,  that  the  body  may  of 
course  send  some  messengers  to  complain  ;  immediately, 
othe    expresses  are  despat'ched  to  the  tongue,  with  orders 
to  cry  out,  that  the  neighbors  may  come  m  and  help,  or 
friends  send  for  the  chirurgeon.     Upon  the  -Pf  nation, 
and  a  cure,  all  is  quiet,  and  the  same  expresses  aie  de- 
t  atched  to  the  tongue  to  be  hush,  and  say  no  more  of  it 
till  furtAiei- oiders.  °  All  this  is  as  plain  to  be  seen  in  these 
1  PlPase  see  p    56    note  1.     And  as  to  the  word  "  belly,"  there 

'TrrodTo  Sorvet  bf  confidently  in  this  opinion, 

Ilfey  ue  apt   o  Sifinfo  tie  eWor  Sf  the  ancient  fable,  wh  ch  repre 
«S     the  members  of  the  body  at  war  with  the  stomach   because 
t  SI     of  all  the  parts  of  tl/e  frame   seemecl  to  rest,  and  absorb 
all  the  nourishment."     And  see  our  quotation  at  p    >0        ^^  „ 

"-  Here  we  affain  have  the  Baconian  use  of  the  word     troops. 


"-  Here 
See,  please,  p.  113. 


538  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

engines,'  as  the  moon  of  our  world  from  the  world  in  the 
moon. 

"  As  the  being,  nature,  and  situation  of  human  soul  is 
thus  spherically  and  mathematically  discovered,  I  could 
not  find  any  second  thoughts  about  it  in  all  their  books, 
whether  of  their  own  composition  or  by  translation  ;  for 
it  was  the  general  received  notion,  that  there  could  not  be 
a  greater  absurdity  in  human  knowledge,  than  to  employ 
the  tlioughts  in  questioning  what  is  as  plainly  known  by 
its  consequences  as  if  seen  with  the  eye  ;  and  that  to 
doubt  the  being  or  extent  of  the  soul's  operation,  is  to 
employ  her  against  herself  ;  and  therefore,  when  I  began 
to  argue  with  my  old  philosopher,''  against  the  immate- 
riality and  immortality  of  this  mystery  we  call  soul,  he 
laughed  at  me,  and  told  me,  he  found  we  had  none  of 
their  glasses  in  our  world  ;  and  bid  me  send  all  our  scep- 
tics, soul- sleepers,  our  Cowards,  Bakers,  Kings,  and  Bake- 
wells,  up  to  him  into  the  moon,  ]f  they  wanted  dem- 
onstrations ;  where,  by  the  help  of  their  engines,  they 
would  make  it  jilaiii  to  them  that  the  great  eye  being  one 
vast  intellect,  infinite  and  eternal,  all  inferior  life  is  a 
degree  of  himself,  and  as  exactly  represents  him  as  one 
little  flame  the  whole  mass  of  fire  f  that  it   is  therefore 

'  To  the  unusual  use  of  this  word  "  engine"  by  Bacon,  and  occur- 
ring through  all  of  these  writings,  we  have  already  called  attention. 
See  pp.  69  and  109.  And  in  Aph.  50,  Book  2  of  the  Novum  Or- 
ganum  he  says  :  "  The  third  of  our  seven  methods  is  referred  to 
that  great  practical  engine  of  nature,  as  well  as  of  art.  cold  and 
heat."  In  the  De  Augmentis,  Bohu  ed.,  Book  1,  p.  57,  he  says  : 
"  Again,  we  find  that  many  of  the  ancient  bishops  and  fatliers  of  the 
Church  were  w^ell  versed  in  all  the  learning  of  the  heathens,  insomuch 
tliat  the  edict  of  the  Emperor  Julian  prohibiting  Christians  the 
sciiools  and  exercises,  was  accounted  a  more  pernicious  engine 
against  the  faith  than  all  the  sanguinary  persecutions  of  his  pred- 
ecessors." See  p.  94  of  this  work  as  to  Julian.  In  The  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  p.  123,  we  have  :  "  They  also  showed  him  some  of  the 
engines  with  which  some  of  liis  servants  had  done  wonderful  things. 
They  showed  him  Moses'  rod  ;  the  hammer  and  nail  with  which 
Jael  slew  Sisera  ;  the  pitchers,  trumpets,  and  lamps  too,  with  which 
Gideon  put  to  flight  the  armies  of  Midian."  In  Addison,  vol.  ii., 
p.  449,  we  have:  "I  consider  the  body  as  a  system  of  tubes  and 
glands,  or  to  use  a  more  rustic  phrase  a  bundle  of  pipes  and  strainers, 
fitted  to  one  anotlier  after  so  wonderful  a  manner,  as  to  make  a 
proper  engine  for  the  soul  to  work  with." 

^  As  to  the  old  philosopher,  see  p.  457,  note  2,  and  Addison,  p.  534, 
note  1. 

^  At  the  heiglit  of  the  moon  wc,  with  Bacon's  views,  as  we  have 
seen,  reach  the  first  rudiment  of  celestial  llame.     See  p.  103. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  539 

incapable  of  dissolution,  being  like  its  original  in  duration, 
as  well  as  in  its  powers  and  faculties,  but  that  it  goes  and 
returns  by  emission,  regression,  as  the  great  eye  governs 
and  determines  ;  and  this  was  phiinly  made  out  by  the 
figure  1  had  seen  it  in,  viz.,  an  eye,  the  exact  image  of  its 
Maker  :  it  is  true,  it  was  darkened  by  ignorance,  folly  and 
crime,  and  therefore  obliged  to  wear  spectacles  ;  but 
though  there  were  defects  or  interruptions  in  its  operation, 
they  were  more  in  its  nature  ;  which,  as  it  haotits  imme- 
diate efilux  from  the  great  eye,  its  return  to  him  must 
partake  of  himself,  and  could  not  but  be  of  a  quality  uii- 
comeatable,  by  casualty  or  death. 

"  From  this  discourse  we  the  more  willingly  adjourned 
our  present  thoughts,  I  being  clearly  convinced  of  the 
matter  ;  and  as  for  our  learned  doctors,  w-ith  their  second 
and  third  thoughts,  I  told  him  I  would  recommend  them 
to  the  man  in  the  moon  for  their  illumination,  which  if 
they  refused  to  accept,  it  was  but  just  they  should  remain 
in  a  wood,  where  they  are,  and  are  like  to  be,  pnzzling 
themselves  about  demonstrations,  squaring  of  circles,  and 
converting  oblique  into  right  angles,  to  bring  out  a 
mathematical  clockwork  soul,  that  will  go  till  the  weight 
is  down,  and  then  stand  still  till  they  know  not  who  must 
■wind  it  up  again. ^ 

"  However,  I  cannot  pass  over  a  very  strange  and  ex- 
traordinary piece  of  art  which  this  old  gentleman  informed 
me  of,  and  that  was  an  engine  to  screw  a  man  into  him- 
self :  perhaps  our  countrymen  may  be  at  some  difficulty  to 
comprehend  these  things  by  my  dull  description  ;  and  to 
such,  I  cannot  but  recommend  a  journey  in  my  engine  to 
the  moon. 

"  This  machine  that  I  am  speaking  of,  contains  a  mul- 
titude of  strange  springs  and  screws,  and  a  man  that  ])uts 
himself  into  it,  is  very  insensibly  carried  into  vast  specu- 
lations, reflections,  and  regular  debates  with  himself. 
They  have  a  very  hard  name  for  it  in  those  parts  ;  but  if 
1  were  to  give  it  an  English  name,  it  should  be  called,  the 
Cogitator,  or  the  chair  of  reflection.'' 

"  And  first,  the  person  that  is  seated  here  feels  some 
pain   in  passing  some  negative  springs,  that  are  wound 

'  Here  see  the  Swift  article  ou  the  "  Mechnnical  Operation  of  the 
Spirit." 
-  Here  come  allusions,  we  tliink,  to  the  Novum  Organura. 


540  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

np,  effectually  to  shut  out  all  injecting,  disturbing 
thoughts,  and  the  better  to  ])repare  him  for  the  operation 
that  is  to  follow  :  and  this  is  without  doubt  a  very  rational 
way  ;  for  when  a  man  can  absolutely  shut  out  all  manner 
of  thinking,  but  what  he  is  upon,  he  shall  think  the  more 
intensely  upon  the  one  object  before  him. 

"  This  operation  past,  here  are  certain  screws  that  draw 
direct  lines  from  every  angle  of  the  engine  to  the  brain  of 
the  man,  and,  at  the  same  time,  other  direct  lines  to  his 
eye  ;  at  the  other  end  of  which  lines,  there  are  glasses 
which  convey  or  reflect  the  objects  the  person  is  desirous 
to  think  upon. 

"  Then  the  main  wheels  are  turned,  which  wind  up 
according  to  their  several  offices  ;  this  the  memory,  that 
the  understanding,  a  third  the  will,  a  fourth  the  thinking 
faculty  ;  and  these  being  put  all  into  regular  motions, 
pointed  by  direct  lines  to  their  proper  objects,  and  per- 
fectly uninterrupted  by  tiie  intervention  of  whimsey, 
chimera,  and  a  thousand  flattering  demons  that  gender  in 
the  fancy,  but  are  effectually  locked  out  as  before,  assist 
one  another  to  receive  right  notions,  and  form  just  ideas 
of  the  things  they  are  directed  to  ;  and  from  thence  the 
man  is  empowered  to  make  right  conclusions,  to  think 
and  act  like  himself,  suitable  to  the  sublime  qualities  his 
soul  was  originally  blessed  with. 

"  There  never  was  a  man  went  into  one  of  these  think- 
ing engines,  but  he  came  wiser  out  than  he  was  before  ; 
and  I  am  persuaded  it  would  be  a  more  effectual  cure  to 
our  deism,  atheism,  scepticism,  and  all  other  seisms,  than 
ever  the  Italian's  engine  for  curing  the  gout  by  cutting 
off  the  toe. 

"  This  is  a  most  wonderful  engine,  and  performs  ad- 
mirably, and  my  author  gave  me  extraordinary  accounts 
of  the  good  effects  of  it  ;  and  I  cannot  but  tell  my  reader, 
that  our  sublunar  world  suffers  millions  of  inconveniences 
for  want  of  this  thinking  engine  :  I  have  had  a  great  many 
projects  in  my  head,  how  to  bring  our  people  to  regular 
tbinking,  but  it  is  in  vain  without  this  engine  ;  and  how 
to  get  the  model  of  it  I  know  not  ;  how  to  screw  up  the 
will,  the  understanding,  and  the  rest  of  the  powers  ;  how 
to  bring  the  eye,  the  thought,  the  fancy  and  the  memor}^, 
into  mathematical  order,  and  obedient  to  mechanic  opera- 
tion.    Help  Boyle,  Norris,  Newton,  Manton,  Hammond, 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.      '  ; '  541 

Tillotson,  and  all  the  learned  race  !  ITelp  philosophy, 
divinity,  physics,  economies  !  All  is  in  vain,  a  mechanic 
chair  of  rellection  is  the  only  remedy  that  ever  I  found  in 
my  life  for  this  work." 

And  from  p.  243  we  continue  thus  : 

"  This  pushes  him  upon  search  after  mediums  for  the 
recovery  of  his  sight,  and  away  he  runs  to  school  to  art 
and  science,  and  there  he  is  furnished  with  horoscopes, 
microscopes,  telescopes,  c^liscopes,  money-scopes,  and  the 
d— 1  and  all  of  glasses,  to  help  and  assist  his  moon-hlind 
understanding.  These,  with  wonderful  skill,  and  ages  of 
application,  after  wandering  through  bogs  and  wildernesses 
of  guess,  conjectures,  supposes,  calculations,  and  he  knoAvs 
not  what,  which  he  meets  with  in  physics,  politics,  ethics, 
astronomy,  mathematics,  and  such  sort  of  bewildeting 
things,  bring  him  with  vast  difficulty  to  a  little,  minute 
spot,  called  Demonstration  ;  and  as  not  one  in  ten  thousand 
ever  finds  the  way  thither,  but  are  lost  in  the  tiresome 
uncouth  journey,  so  they  that  do,  it  is  so  long  before  they 
come  there,  that  they  are  grown  old  and  good  for  little  in 
the  journey  ;  and  no  sooner  have  they  obtained  a  glimmer- 
ing of  this  universal  eyesight,  this  eclaircisscment  general, 
but  they  die,  and  have  hardly  time  to  show  the'  way  to 
those  that  come  after.' 

"  Now  as  the  earnest  search  after  this  thing  called 
demonstration  filled  me  with  desires  of  seeing  everything, 
so  my  observations  of  the  strange  multitude' of  mysteries 
I  met  with  in  all  men's  actions  here,  spurred  my  curiosity 
to  examine,  if  the  great  eye  of  the  world  had  no  people  to 
whom  he  had  given  a  clearer  eyesight,  or,  at  least,  that 
made  a  better  use  of  it  than  we  had  here. 

"  If,  pursuing  this  search,  I  was  much  delighted  at  my 
arrival  into  China,  it  cannot  be  thought  strange  ;  since 
there  we  find  knowledge  as  much  advanced  beyond  our 
common  pitch,  as  it  was  pretended  to  be  derived  from  a 
more  ancient  original. 

"  We  are  told,  that  in  the  early  age  of  the  world,  the 
strength  of  invention  exceeded  all  that  ever  has  been 
arrived  to  since  :  that  we,  in  these  latter  ages,  having  lost 
all  that  pristine  strength  of  reason  and  invention,  which 

'  To  preserve  and  bear  forward  these  attainments  to  those  that 
come  after  was  one,  if  not  the  chief  object  to  be  accomplished  by 
the  New  Atlantis. 


542  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

died  with  the  ancients  in  tlie  Flood,  and  receiving  no 
help  from  that  age,  have  by  long  search  arrived  at  several 
remote  parts  of  knowledge,  by  the  helps  of  reading,  con- 
versation, and  experience  ;  but  that  all  amounts  to  no 
more  than  faint  imitations,  apings,  and  resemblances  of 
what  was  known  in  those  masterly  ages.' 

"  Now  if  it  be  trne,  as  is  hinted  before,  that  the  Chinese 
empire  was  peopled  long  before  the  flood,  and  that  they 
were  not  destroyed  in  tlie  general  deluge  in  the  days  of 
Noah  ;  it  is  no  such  strange  thing  that  they  should  so 
much  outdo  us  in  this  sort  of  eyesight  we  call  general 
knowledge,  since  the  perfections  bestowed  on  nature,  when 
in  her  youth  and  prime,  met  with  no  general  suffocation 
by  that  calamity. 

"But  if  I  was  extremely  delighted  with  the  extraor- 
dinary things  1  saw  in  those  countries,  you  cannot  but 
imagine  1  was  exceedingly  moved  when  I  heard  of  a  lunar 
world  ;  and  that  the  way  was  passable  from  these  parts. ^ 

"  I  had  heard  of  a  world  in  the  moon  among  some  of 
our  learned  philosophers,  and  Moore,  as  I  have  been  told, 
had  a  moon  in  his  head  f  but  none  of  tlie  fine  pretenders, 
no,  not  bishop  Wilkins,  ever  found  mechanic  engines 
whose  motion  was  sufficient  to  attempt  the  passage."  * 

Here  let  the  New  Atlantis,  opening  with  its  voyage  to 
China  and  Japan,  be  called  into  relation  with  "  The  Con- 

'  See  these  views  as  expressed  in  the  New  Atlantis. 

*  Bacon  says :  "  The  common  idea  that  the  universe  is  rightly  divided 
and  distinguished  as  it  were  by  globes,  so  that  there  is  one  system  of 
celestial  and  another  of  sublunary  bodies,  seems  to  have  been  intro- 
duced not  without  reason,  if  only  it  be  lield  with  moderation.  For 
no  doubt  but  that  the  regions  above  and  below  the  lunar  orb,  together 
with  the  bodies  contained  therein,  dilTer  much  and  greatly.  And 
yet  this  is  not  more  certain  than  that  the  bodies  of  both  globes  have 
common  inclinations,  passions,  and  motions."  See  this  article, 
Phil  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  437,  and  see  our  quotation  at  p.  85  ;  also 
see  pp.  161-164. 

^  See  Bacon's  allusion,  p.  485,  to  his  having  a  feather  in  his  head. 

■^  Here  follow  strictures  concerning  the  mentioned  article  by  Swift 
entitled  "The  Mechanical  Operation  of  the  Spirit,"  and  which  re- 
sulted, it  is  said,  in  burning  up  all  of  the  wit  and  fancy  of  the 
author.  It  is  indeed  a  biting  satire  against  the  organization  and 
immoralities  of  what  in  the  foregoing  Defoe  articles  is  called  the 
Hell-Fire  Club,  and  was  aimed,  we  think,  at  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham. This  article  it  evidently  was  that  produced  the  already  men- 
tioned battle  in  St.  James'  Library.  Promus,  937.  (I  lost  my  honour 
in  talking  ill  and  in  ill  listening.) 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  543 

solidator,"  and  onr  thread  is  again  connected.  _  In  the 
New  Atlantis  we  may  see  the  mentioned  antediluvian  state 
of  knowledge  commented  upon  as  to  China  as  well  as  to 
Atlantis  or  America,  and  where  Bacon  says  : 

"  You  shall  understand  (that  which  perhaps  you  will 
scarce  think  credible)  that  about  three  thousand  years 
aero,  or  somewhat  more,  the  navigation  of  the  world  (espe- 
cially for  remote  voyages),  was  greater  than  at  this  day. 
Do  not  think  with  yourselves  that  I  know  not  how  much 
it  is  increased  with  you  within  those  six-score  years  :  1 
know  it  well  :  and  yet  I  say  greater  tJien  than  now  ; 
whether  it  was,  that  the  example  of  the  ark,  that  saved  tlie 
remnant  of  men  from  the  universal  deluge,  gave  men  con- 
fidence to  adventure  upon  the  waters  ;  or  what  it  was  ; 
but  such  is  the  truth.  The  Phronicians,  and  especially 
the  Tyrians,  had  great  fleets.  So  had  the  Carthaginians, 
their  colony,  which  is  yet  further  west.  Toward  the  east, 
the  shipping  of  Egypt  and  of  Palestina  was  likewise  great. 
China  also,  and  the  great  Atlantis  (that  you  call  America), 
which  have  now  but  junks  and  canoes,  abounded  then  m 
tall  ships.  This  island  (as  appeareth  by  faithful  registers 
of  those  times)  had  then  fifteen  hundred  strong  ships,  ot 
o-reat  content.  Of  all  this  there  is  with  you  sparing  mem- 
Sry,  or  none  ;  but  we  have  large  knowledge  thereof.' 

"  At  that  time,  this  land  was  known  and  frequented  by 
the  ships  and  vessels  of  all  the  nations  before  named." 
(Bacon's  Philosophical  Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  140.)  At  pp. 
103-64  may  be  seen  Bacon's  proposed  engines  even  to 
compassing  of  the  mechanism  of  flight. 

And  at  p.  230  of  "  The  Consolidator"  we  find  repre- 
sented such  a  piece  of  mechanism  in  a  gigantic  bird, 
whose  numbered  feathers  stand  for  the  political  representa- 
tives of  the  nation.  This  bird  was  designed  m  part,  we 
think,  to  concern  or  represent  the  Parliament  and  reign 
of  James  the  First. '^  We,  however,  find  some  substituted 
and  some  interpolated  expressions  to  conform  it  to  the 
Defoe  period.  As  to  the  subject  of  glasses,  referred  to  in 
"  The  Consolidator,"  please  see  the  New  Atlantis,  pp.  161 

'  Was  this  knowledi^'e,  iu  part,  derived  from  ancient  coin  ?  See, 
please,  the  "  Dialogue  ou  Medals"  in  Addison,  vol.  1.,  pp.  2!j3-3o5, 
and  see  oar  quotation  at  p.  385.  ,.        ,  r     •         o 

i  Was  it  desi.iiiied  to  concern,  in  part,  the  mentioned  confusion  ot 
Henry  the  Eighth  at  p.  221  ? 


544  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRIKTH. 

and  162.  The  knowledge  displayed  generally  in  the  New 
Atlantis  will  be  found  spread  into  all  of  these  writings, 
even  into  the  travels  of  Gulliver.' 

In  "  The  Consolidator,"  at  p.  216,  we  may  note  Bacon's 
distinctive  views  as  to  the  Copernican  system  in  these 
words  :  "  For  I  take  the  doctrine  of  passive  obedience,' 
etc.,  among  the  statesmen,  to  be  like  the  Copernican 
system  of  the  earth's  motion  among  philosophers  :  which, 
though  it  be  contrary  to  all  ancient  knowledge,  and  not 
capable  of  demonstration,  yet  is  adhered  to  in  general, 
because  by  this  they  can  better  solve,  and  give  a  more 
rational  account  of  several  dark  phenomena  in  nature, 
than  they  could  before." 

Bacon  in  "  The  Consolidator"  was  religiously,  we  think, 
as  he  was  politically  in  ''  The  Jure  Divino"  and  in  "  The 
Original  Power  of  the  Collective  Body  of  the  People  of 
England  Examined  and  Asserted,"  living  a  second  life  on 
second  head.  In  "  The  Jure  Divino"  tlie  folly  as  to  the 
divine  right  of  kings  is  indeed  most  graphically  made 
manifest  ;  and  in  "  The  Consolidator"  all  things  are  being 
subtly  worked  through  confusion  to  his  youthful  Puritan 

'  From  p.  37  of  Gulliver's  Travels  we  quote  as  follows  :  "  la  the 
year  1737  Gulliver's  Travels  appeared,  and  were  hailed  with  a  mix- 
ture of  merriment  and  amazement,  which  at  once  stamped  their 
popularity.  Some  contemporary  critics  accused  him  of  havinoj 
imitated  Defoe  ;  and  the  charge  has  been  often  repeated.  No  doubt, 
there  are  many  striking  points  of  resemblance  between  the  two  great 
fictions  of  these  authors,  especially  the  air  of  truth  which  the  recital 
of  minute  and  apparently  striking  circumstances  gives  to  their  nar- 
ratives ;  but  while  Defoe  strictly  confines  himself  to  romantic  ad- 
venture, Swift  takes  the  higher  aim  of  philosophic  satire,  and  seems 
to  consider  the  incidents  of  his  story  as  secondar}^  considerations." 

^  As  to  "  passive  obedience"  we,  from  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  391,  quote 
as  follows  :  "  Passive  obedience  and  non-resistance  are  the  duties  of 
Turks  and  Indians,  who  have  no  laws  above  the  will  of  a  Grand 
Signior  or  a  Mogul.  The  same  power  which  those  princes  enjoy  in  . 
their  respective  governments,  belongs  to  the  legislative  body  in  our 
constitution  ;  and  that  for  the  same  reason  ;  because  no  body  of 
men  is  subject  to  laws,  or  can  be  controlled  by  them,  who  have  the 
authority  of  making,  altering,  or  repealing  whatever  laws  they  shall 
think  tit.  Were  our  legislature  vested  in  the  person  of  our  prince, 
he  might,  doubtless,  wind  and  turn  our  constitution  at  his  pleasure  ; 
he  might  shape  ovir  government  to  his  fancy.  In  a  word,  he  might 
oppress,  persecute,  or  destroy,  and  no  man  say  to  him.  What  dost 
thou  ?"  All  of  these  writers  were,  in  other  words,  Bacon  was  a 
great  theologian.     See  Macaulay's  statement,  p.  185, 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  545 

views.'  In  our  statement  as  to  the  masks,  see  what  Bacon 
says  touching  the  methods  of  Uemocritiis  in  bringing 
forth  truth  out  of  confusion. 

What  Bacon  himself  came  to  think  touching  the  aban- 
donment of  his  defence  may  bo  seen  in  "  The  Jure  Di- 
vino,"  from  which  we  quote  as  follows  : 

"  But  man  gives  man  no  latitude  or  law, 
But  reigns  by  laws  that  nature  never  saw  ; 
If  the  exalted  tyrant  claims  his  right, 
The  passive  slave  must  patiently  submit ; 
His  wife,  life,  land,  his  sword  and  gun  resign, 
And  neither  must  resist,  nor  may  repine  ; 
If  to  be  murder'd,  must  to  fate  give  way. 
And  if  to  hang  his  passive  self  :  obey. 

"  But  O  !  the  Christian  legion  thus  behaves 
Wliy  then  tlie  Christian  legion  must  be  knaves  ; 
Knaves  to  themselves  and  to  their  own  defence, 
And  might  have  lived  and  fought  in  innocence  ;' 
Ought  to  have  lived  and  fought,  and  ought  to  be' 
Punish'd  for  yielding  to  unjust  authority  ; 
He  that  his  own  most  just  defence  declhies, 
Felode  se,  against  himself  combines  : 
For  life's  a  debt,  which  no  man  can  deny, 
'Tis  due  to  nature  and  posterity  : 
'Tis  lent  us  to  improve  and  propagate. 
And  no  man  may  anticipate  his  fate  : 
But  he  betrays  the  high  orig'nal  trust, 
Is  to  himself  and  family  unjust  ; 
A  traitor  to  the  laws  of  common  sense. 
And  contradicts  the  ends  of  Providence  ; 
Rebels  against  his  reason  and  defies 
The  rules  of  life,  and  puts  out  nature's  eyes."* 

These  thoughts  and  the  "  Serious  Reflections"  of  Robin- 
son Crusoe  have  been  supposed  to  apply  to  Defoe's  neg- 
lect to  defend  himself  upon  being  charged  with  the  author- 
ship of  that  admirable  paper  entitled  "  The  Shortest  Way 
with  the  Dissenters."  If  he  was  the  author  had  he  not 
faith  in  his  work?  and  what  defence  had  he? 

But  again,  same  page  : 

"  Nature's  just  argument  from  this  is  plain 
Tliat  if  he  must  the  gift  of  life  maintain  ; 
With  equal  care  he's'bound  to  the  defence, 
From  foreign  or  domestic  violence  : 

'  Promus,  351.     (Let  me  back  to  my  former  life  ) 
»  See  Sonnet  88  and  II a,  pp.  281  and  285 
18 


546  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

It  can't  be  just  that  heaven  should  e'er  intend. 
We  should  ourselves  against  ourselves  defend  :     . 
And  then  to  let  another  hand  procure, 
The  mischiefs  we're  forbidden  to  endure  : 
This  consequence  forever  will  be  true, 
He  must  not  suffer  what  he  must  not  do  ; 
And  'tis  as  nat'ral  still,  and  full  as  just, 
That  what  we  must  not  bear  we  may  resist."  ' 

(Jure  Divino,  p.  18,  Hazlitt's  Defoe,  vol.  iii.) 
And  same  article,  at  page  27,  we  have  : 

"  The  laws  of  nature  dictate  to  the  sense. 
That  all  men  claim  the  right  to  self-defence  ; 
And  they  that  swear  a  larger  debt  to  pay, 
Insult  their  Maker  when  they  thus  obey  ; 
Depose  the  rightful  rule  of  Providence, 
Confound  their  reason,  and  dissolve  their  sense  : 
Subject  the  human  nature  unto  rules, 
Not  fit  to  govern  any  brutes  but  fools  ; 
From  this  just  cause  it  always  comes  to  pass, 
Let  the  fool  man  be  ne'er  so  much  an  ass  ; 
The  laws  of  nature  ne'er  so  much  suppress'd. 
And  the  blind  wretch  be  ne'er  so  much  a  jest  : 
The  just  dominion  of  eternal  right. 
Dissolves  the  mist  at  last,  and  clears  the  sight ; 
Does  all  the  sense  of  injury  restore. 
And  brings  things  back  to  where  they  were  before  ; 
The  thin  vain  vapour  which  eclipsed  his  eyes. 
Dissolves  of  course,  and  reason  naked  lies  : 
His  judgment  to  its  exercise  retires, 
And  reason  all  the  exhalation  fires  ; 
The  man  enjoys  himself,"^  and  sees  by  rule. 
That  all  his  life  before  he's  been  a  fool. 

"  From  this  new  life  his  reason  dates  her  reign, 
And  after  this  all  new  attempts  are  vain  ; 
His  native  liberty  he  will  pursue, 
The  fetters  of  his  tangled  sense  undo  ; 


^  In  the  Addison  article  on  passive  obedience,  in  a  note  just  re- 
ferred to,  we  have:  "But  to  say  that  we  have  rights  which 
we  ought  not  to  vindicate  and  assert  ;  that  liberty  and  property  are 
the  birthright  of  the  English  nation,  but  that  if  a  prince  invades 
them  by  violent  and  illegal  methods,  we  may  upon  no  pretence 
resist,  but  remain  altogether  passive  ;  nay,  that  in  such  a  case  we 
must  all  lose  our  lives  unjustlj',  rather  than  defend  them  ;  this,  I 
say,  is  to  confound  governments,  and  to  join  things  together  that 
are  wholly  repugnant  in  their  natures  ;  since  it  is  plain,  that  such  a 
plain  subjection,  such  an  unconditional  obedience,  can  be  only  due 
to  an  arbitrary  prince,  or  to  a  legislative  body." 

"  As  to  the  expression  "  enjoys  himself,"  see  p.  348,  note  6. 


THREAD    OF  THE    LABYRINTH.  5-17 

Dissolve  the  hated  bonds  of  slavery, 
And  let  his  body  as  his  mind  be  free." 

Ill  order  to  draw  the  mind  now  in  the  desired  direction, 
we  return  to  "The  Consolidator,"  and  from  p.  245  quote 
thus  :  "  It  is  not  worth  while  to  tell  you  this  man's  lunar 
name,  or  whether  he  had  a  name  or  no  ;  it  is  plain  it  was 
a  man  in  the  moon  ;  but  all  the  conference  I  had  with 
him  was  very  strange."  ' 

And  on  p.  247  we  have  : 

"  From  the  observation  of  these  glasses,  we  also  drew 
some  puns,  crotchets,  and  conclusions. 

"  First.  That  the  whole  world  has  a  blind  side,  a  dark 
side,  and  a  bright  side,  and  consequently  so  has  every- 
body in  it. 

"  Secondly.  That  the  dark  side  of  affairs  to-day,  may 
be  the  bright  side  to-morrow  ;  from  whence  abundance 
of  useful  morals  were  also  raised  ;  such  as, — 

"  1.  No  man's  fate  is  so  dark,  but  when  the  sun  shines 
upon  it,  it  will  return  its  rays  and  shine  for  itself. 

"  2.  All  things  turn  like  the  moon,  up  to-day,  down 
to-morrow,  full  and  change,  flux  and  reflux. 

"  3.  Human  understanding  is  like  the  moon  at  the 
first  qviarter,  half  dark.'' 

"  Tliirdly.  The  changing  sides  ought  not  to  be 
thought  so  strange,  or  so  much  condemned  by  mankind, 
having  its  original  from  the  lunar  influence,  and  governed 
by  the  powerful  operation  of  heavenly  motion. 

"  Fourthly.  If  there  be  any  such  thing  as  destiny  in 
the  world,  I  know  nothing  man  is  so  predestinated  to,  as 
to  be  eternally  turning  round  ;  and  but  that  I  purpose  to 
entertain  the  reader  with  at  least  a  whole  chapter  or  sec- 
tion of  the  philosophy  of  human  motion,  spherically  and 
hypercritically  examined  and  calculated,  I  should  enlarge 
upon  that  thought  in  this  place. 

"  Having  thus  jumped^  in  our  opinions,  and  i^erfectly 

'  See  Sonnet  107,  p.  104. 

'  Bacon  in  connection  with  his  idols  of  the  tribe,  of  the  den,  of 
the  market,  of  the  theatre,  says  :  "  For  the  mind,  darkened  by  its 
covering  the  body,  is  far  from  being  a  flat,  equal,  and  clear  mirror 
that  receives  and  reflects  the  rays  without  mixture,  but  rather  a 
magical  glass,  full  of  siiperstitions  and  apparitions."  (De  Aug- 
mentis.  Book  5,  ch.  4,  Bohn  ed.,  p.  207.) 

^  In  the  plays  we  have  the  expressions  "  jump  the  life  to  come," 


548  THREAD    OF   THE   LABYRINTH. 

satisfied  ourselves  with  demonstration  that  these  worlds 
were  sisters,  both  in  form,  function,  and  all  their  capacities  ; 
in  short,  a  pair  of  moons,  and  a  pair  of  worlds,  equally 
magnetical,  sympathetical,  and  influential  ;  we  set  up  our 
rest  as  to  that  affair,  and  went  forward." 

In  the  so-called  Shakespeare  plays,  and  particularly  in 
the  play  of  The  Tempest,  in  a  Midsummer-Night's 
Dream,'  and  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost  let  the  reader  note 
the  expressions  where  the  "  moon"  and  "  the  man  in  the 
moon"  are  made  use  of  ;  also  in  the  foregoing  lines  con-' 
cerning  the  South  Sea ;  also  Sonnet  107,  where  it  is  said 
"The  Mortal  Moon  hath  her  eclipse,  endured."  And 
The  Anatomy  of  Melancholy  opens  in  these  words  : 

"  Gentle  reader,  I  presume  thou  wilt  be  very  inquisitive 
to  know  what  antick  or  personate  actor  this  is,  that  so 
insolently  intrudes,  upon  this  common  theatre,  to  the 
world's  view,  arrogating  another  man's  name,  whence  he 
is,  why  he  doth  it,  and  what  he  hath  to  say.     Although, 


"  jump  at  this  dead  hour,"  "  our  inventions  meet  and  jump  in  one," 
etc.  As  to  the  advancement  of  officials  Bacon  says  :  "  In  tiiis  three 
points  are  to  be  observed  ;  lirst,  that  the  promotion  be  by  steps,  and 
not  by  jumps  ;  secondly,  that  they  be  accustomed  to  an  occasional 
disappointment  ;  and  thirdly,  as  Machiavelli  well  advises,  that  they 
should  have  ever  before  their  eyes  some  ulterior  object  of  ambition." 
(Phil.  Works,  vol.  v.,  p.  47.)  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  we  have 
the  expressions  "I  had  always  the  luck  to  jump  in  my  judgment 
with  the  present  w^ay  of  the  times"  and  "  yet  if  he  jumps  not  with 
them  in  all  things,"  etc.,  pp.  174  and  175. , 

'  The  play  of  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream  is  indeed  a  most  subtle 
piece  of  work.  Concerning  it  see  our  quotation  from  Bacon  as  to 
Robin  Goodfellow  ;  in  other  words,  Bacon's  friend.  Faulk  Gravil,  at 
p.  460,  note  1.  And  from  Act  ii.,  sc.  1,  p.  283,  of  the  play  we  quote 
as  follows  : 

"  Fai.  Either  I  mistake  your  shape  and  making  quite. 
Or  else  you  are  that  shrewd  and  knavish  sprite, 
Call'd  Robin  Goodfellow  :  are  you  not  he, 
That  frights  the  maidens  of  the  villagery  ; 
Skims  milk  ;  and  sometimes  labours  in  the  quern, 
And  bootless  makes  the  breathless  housewife  churn  ; 
And  sometime  makes  the  drink  to  bear  no  barm  ; 
Misleads  night-wanderers,  laughing  at  their  harm  ?" 

Was  not  this  play  written  while  Bacon  was  seeking  the  Solicitor's 
place,  mentioned  in  earlier  pages  ?  As  to  Theseus,  the  Duke,  its 
leading  character,  see  Bacon's  Phil.  Works,  vol.  iii.,  pp.  334  and 
335. 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  549 

as  lie  said,  Primum,  si  noluero,  non  respondebo :  quis 
coacturiis  est?  (I  am  a  free  man  born,  and  may  choose 
whether  I  will  tell  :  who  can  compel  me  ?)  if  I  be  urged,  I 
will  as  readily  reply  as  that  Egyptian  in  Plntarch,  when  a 
curious  fellow  would  needs  know  what  he  had  in  his 
basket,  Qiium  vides  velatam,  quid  inquiris  in  rem  ahscon- 
ditam  9  It  was  therefore  covered,  because  he  should  not 
know  what  was  in  it.'  Seek  not  after  that  which  is  hid  : 
if  the  contents  please  thee,  and  he  for  thy  use,  suppose  the 
man  in  the  moon,  or  whom  thou  luilt,  to  be  the  author :  I 
would  not  willingly  be  known."  "■' 

We  next  invite  the  attention  of  the  reader  to  Swift's 
"  Tale  of  a  Tub,"  dedicated  to  Prince  Posterity,  and 
from  the  bookseller's  dedication,  p.  24,  quote  thus  :' 

"  My  Lord  :  Although  the  author  has  written  a  large 
dedication,  yet  that  being  addressed  to  a  prince,  whom  I 
am  never  likely  to  have  the  honour  of  being  known  to  ;  a 
person  besides,  as  far  as  I  can  observe,  not  at  all  regarded, 
or  thought  on  by  any  of  our  present  writers  ;  and  being 
wholly  free  from  that  slavery  which  booksellers  usually  lie 
under,  to  the  caprice  of  authors,  I  think  it  a  wise  piece  of 
presumption  to  inscribe  those  papers  to  your  lordsliip  and 
to  implore  your  lordship's  protection  of  them.  God  and 
your  l"ordship  know  their  faults  and  their  merits  ;  for,  as 
to  my  own  particular,^  I  am  altogether  a  stranger  to  the 
matter  ;  and  though  everybody  else  should  be  equally 
ignorant,  I  do  not  fear  the  sale  of  the  book,  at  all  the 
worse,  upon  that  score." 

From  "  The  Bookseller  to  the  Eeader,"  p.  28,  we  quote 
in  full,  thus  : 

"  It  is  now  six  years  since  these  papers  came  first  to  my 
hand,  which  seems  to  have  been  about  a  twelvemonth  after 
they  were  written  ;  for  the  author  tells  us  in  his  preface 
to  the  first  treatise,  that  he  has  calculated  it  for  the  year 
1097,  and  in  several  passages  of  that  discourse,  as  well  as 
the  second,  it  appears  they  were  written  about  that  time. 

"  As  to  the  author,  I  can  give  no  manner  of  satisfaction  ; 

'  Will  the  reader  please  see  our  quotation  from  Addison  at  p.  458. 

*  Promus,  853.     I  had  rather  know  than  be  known. 

^  The  matter  introductory  to  this  work  we  regard  as  products  pre- 
pared by  Bacon's  own  subtle  pen. 

*  Here  we  again  liave  Bacon's  distinctive  and  unusual  expression 
"  my  own  particular."     See  p.  399,  note  7. 


550  THREAD    OF   TUB    LABYRINTIT. 

however  I  am  credibly  informed,  that  this  publication  is 
without  his  knowledge  ;  for  he  concludes  the  copy  is  lost, 
having  lent  it  to  a  person,  since  dead,  and  being  never  in 
possession  of  it  after  :  so  that,  whether  the  work  received 
his  last  hand,  or  whether  he  intended  to  fill  up  the  defec- 
tive places,  is  likely  to  remain  a  secret.^ 

"  If  I  should  go  about*  to  tell  the  reader,  by  what  acci- 
dent I  became  master  of  these  papers,  it  would,  in  this 
unbelieving  age,  pass  for  Tittle  more  than  the  cant  or  Jar- 
gon of  the  trade.  I  therefore  gladly  spare  both  him  and 
myself  so  unnecessary  a  trouble.  There  yet  remains  a 
difficult  question,  why  1  published  them  no  sooner.  1 
forebore  upon  two  accounts  ;  first,  because  I  thought  I 
had  better  work  upon  my  own  hands  ;  and  secondly,  be- 
cause I  was  not  without  some  hope  of  hearing  from  the 
author,  and  receiving  his  directions.  But  I  have  been 
lately  alarmed  with  intelligence  of  a  surreptitious  copy, 
which  a  certain  great  wit  had  now  polished  and  refined, 
or,  as  our  present  writers  express  themselves,  fitted  to  the 
humour  of  the  age  ;  as  they  have  already  done,  with  great 
felicity  to,  Don  Quixote,  Boccalini,  La  Bruyere,  and  other 
authors.     However,  I  thought  it  fairer  dealing  to  offer  the 

'  These  places  are  what  are  called  chasms  in  the  manuscript.  See 
Addison's  use  of  this  word  "  chasm,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  109.  And  ae  to  the 
expression  "  chasms  of  tliouglit,"  see  vol.  iii.  of  his  works,  p.  491. 
See  also  De  Augmentis,  Book  2,  ch.  7. 

^  To  Bacon's  use  of  the  words  "  go  about"  we  have  already  called 
attention  and  given  examples  at  p.  32.  And  from  the  Merchant  of 
Venice,  Act  ii.,  sc.  9,  p.  67,  we  give  the  following  : 

"  And  well  said  too  ;  for  who  shall  go  about 
To  cozen  fortune,  and  be  honourable 
Without  the  stamp  of  merit  1" 

3  We  have  likewise  called  attention  to  Bacon's  use  of  the  word 
"master"  in  the  expressions  "the  stomacli  is  tlie  master  of  the 
house,"  "opinion  is  the  master  wheel,"  etc.  He  also  used  the  ex- 
pressions "  master  of  "  and  "  more  wit  than  1  am  master  of,"  etc. 
And  in  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  170,  we  have  :  "  Each  of  which  subjects 
requires  more  time  to  examine  than  I  am  at  present  master  of." 
And  from  Gulliver's  Travels,  by  Swift,  p.  169,  we  have:  "lone 
day  took  the  freedom  to  tell  his  majesty,  that  the  contempt  he  dis- 
covered towards  Europe,  and  the  rest  of  the  world,  did  not  seem 
answerable  to  those  excellent  qualities  of  mind  that  he  was  master 
of,"  etc.  And  in  the  Serious  Reflections  of  Crusoe,  p.  19,  we  have  : 
"  No  man  is  answerable  either  to  God  or  man  for  that  which  he 
never  was  master  of." 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  551 

whole  work  in  its  naturals.  If  any  gentleman  will  please 
to  furnish  me  with  a  key,  in  order  to  explain  the  more 
difficult  parts,  I  shall  very  gratefully  acknowledge  the 
favour,  and  print  it  by  itself." 

The  preface  to  the  work,  p.  35,  begins  thus  : 
"  The  wits  of  the  present  age  being  so  very  numerous 
and  penetrating,  it  seems  the  grandees  of  church  and  state 
begin  to  fall  under  horrible  apprehensions,  lest  these  gen- 
tlemen, during  the  intervals  of  a  long  peace,  should  find 
leisure  to  pick  holes  in  the  sides  of  religion  and  govern- 
ment,' to  prevent  which,  there  has  been  much  thought 
employed  of  late,  upon  certain  projects  for  taking  oU  the 
force  and  edge  of  those  formidable  inquirers,  from  can- 
vassing and  reasoning  upon  such  delicate  points.  They 
have  at  length  fixed  upon  one,  which  will  require  some 
time  as  well  as  cost  to  perfect.  Meanwhile,  the  danger 
hourly  increasing,  by  new  levies  of  wits,  all  appointed  (as 
there  is  reason  to  fear)  with  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  which 
may,  at  an  hour's  warning,  be  drawn  out  into  pamphlets, 
and  other  offensive  weapons,  ready  for  immediate  execu- 
tion, it  was  judged  of  absolute  necessity,  that  some  present 
expedient  be  thought  on,  till  the  main  design  can  bo 
brought  to  maturity.  To  this  end,  at  a  grand  committee 
some  days  ago,  this  important  discovery  was  made  by  a 
certain  curious  and  refined  observer  —that  seamen  have  a 
custom,  when  they  meet  a  whale,  to  fiiug  him  out  an 
empty  tub  by  way  of  amusement,  to  divert  him  from  laying 
violent  hands  upon  the  ship.'  This  parable  was  immedi- 
ately mythologized  ;  the  whale  was  interpreted  to  be 
Hobbe's  Leviathan,  which  tosses  and  plays  with  all 
schemes  of  religion  and  government,  whereof  a  great  many 

'  In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  p.  233,  we  have  :  "  They  then  began 
to  pick  holes,  as  we  say,  in  the  coats  of  some  of  the  godly,  and 
that  devilishly,  that  they  may  have  a  seeming  color  to  throw  religion 
(for  the  sake  of  some  infirmities  they  have  espied  in  them)  behind 
their  backs."  See  Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  vii.,  pp.  24  and  25.  In 
another  place  Bacon  saj^s  :  "  Certain  feeble  and  pale  lamps  are  not 
to  be  carried  round  to  the  several  corners  and  holes  of  errors  and 
falsehood."     (Works,  vol.  11.,  p.  548.) 

Mn  Addison,  vol.  iii.,  p.  172,  we  have:  "The  air-pump,  the 
barometer,  the  quadrant,  and  the  like  inventions,  were  thrown  out 
to  those  busy  spirits,  as  tubs  and  barrels  are  to  a  whale,  that  he  may 
let  the  ship  sail  on  without  disturbance,  while  he  diverts  himself 
with  those  innocent  amusements."     Let  this  article  be  read. 


boZ  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

are  hollow,  and  dry,  and  empty,  and  noisy,  and  wooden, 
and  given  to  rotation  :  this  is  the  leviathan,  whence  the 
terrible  wits  of  our  age  are  said  to  borrow  their  weapons. 
The  ship  in  danger  is  easily  understood  to  be  its  old  anti- 
type, the  commonwealth.  But  how  to  analyze  the  tub, 
was  a  matter  of  difficulty  ;  when,  after  long  inquiry  and 
debate,  the  literal  meaning  was  preserved  ;  and  it  was 
decreed  that,  in  order  to  prevent  these  leviathans  from 
tossing  and  sporting  with  the  commonwealth,  which  of 
itself  is  too  apt  to  fluctuate,  they  should  be  diverted  from 
that  game  by  a  Tale  of  a  Tub.'  And,  my  genius  being  con- 
ceived to  lie  not  unhappily  that  way,  I  had  the  honour  done 
mo  to  be  engaged  in  the  performance. 

"  This  is  the  sole  design  in  publishing  the  following 
treatise,  which  I  hope  will  serve  for  an  interim  of  some 
months  to  employ  these  unquiet  spirits,  till  the  perfecting 
of  that  great  work  ;  into  the  secret  of  which,  it  is  reason- 
able the  courteous  reader  should  have  some  little  light." 

Our  noted  Baconian  word  "  weed,"  see  p.  103,  should 
now  be  called  into  relation  with  this  work  at  p.  40,  where 
we  have  : 

"  Besides,  most  of  our  late  satirists  seem  to  lie  under  a 
sort  of  mistake  ;  that  because  nettles  have  the  prerogative 
to  sting,''  therefore  all  other  weeds  must  do  so  too.  I  make 
not  this  comparison  out  of  the  least  design  to  detract  from 
these  worthy  writers  ;  for  it  is  well  known  among  mythol- 
ogists,  that  weeds  have  the  pre-eminence  over  all  other 
vegetables  ;'  and  therefore  the  first  monarch  of  this  island, 
whose  taste  and  Judgment  were  so  acute  and  refined,  did 
very  wisely  root  out  the  roses  from  the  collar  of  the  order, 
and  plant  the  thistles'*  in  their  stead,  as  the  nobler  flower 

1  Promus,  769.  (The  life  of  a  tub  [like  that  of  Diogeues]  :  of 
those  who  live  penuriously  and  'far  from  the  madding  crowd.') 
In  earlier  pages  we  have  mentioned  Bacon's  allusion  to  his  Gorham- 
biiry  residence  as  his  Tub,  pp.  224  and  411.  See,  please,  in  this  con- 
nection the  Addison  article  on  the  "  tub,"  vol.  ii.,  pp.  415-19. 

^  See  p.  301  what  Bacon  saj's  as  to  the  stinging  of  the  nettle. 

^  Touching  mythology  as  to  vegetables,  see  our  quotation  from 
Addison,  p.  71. 

■*  As  to  the  "  thistle"  and  some  device  connected  with  it,  we  quote 
Bacon  as  follows  :  "  His  Lordship  proceeded  and  said,  this  question 
was  new  to  us,  but  ancient  to  them  ;  assuring  us  that  the  King  did 
not  bear  in  vain  the  device  of  the  Thistle,  wiih  the  word,  J\'emo  me 
lacessit  impune  ;  and  that  as  the  multiplying  of  his  kingdoms  maketh 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTn.  553 

of  the  two.  For  which  reason  it  is  conjectured  by  pro- 
founder  antiquaries,  that  the  satirical  itch/  so  prevalent 
in  this  part  of  our  island,  was  first  brought  among  us  from 
beyond  the  Tweed.  Here  may  it  long  flourish  and  abound  : 
may  it  survive  and  neglect  the  scorn  of  the  world,  with 
as  much  ease  and  contempt  as  the  world  is  insensible  to 
the  lashes  of  it." 

This  preface  ends  thus  :  "  Yet  I  shall  now  dismiss  our 
impatient  reader  from  any^  further  attendance  at  the 
porch,"  and,  having  duly  prepared  his  mind  by  a  prelimi- 
nary discourse,  shall  gladly  introduce  him  to  the  sublime 
mysteries  that  ensue." 

The  article  itself  consists  of  Alternating  Sections  in  which 
the  history  of  the  Church  following  the  reign  of  Henry  tlie 
Eighth  is  allegorically  presented,  this  subject  alternating 
with  sections  upon  literature  and  critics,  and  wherein  is 
distinguished  the  true  ancient  critic.  In  the  author's 
apology  for  the  work,  p.  10,  we  have  :  "  The  greater  part 
of  that  book  was  finished  about  thirteen  years  since,  1696, 
which  is  eight  years  before  it  was  published.  The  author 
was  then  young,  his  invention  at  the  height,  and  his  read- 
ing fresh  in  his  head.  By  the  assistance  of  some  think- 
ing, and  much  conversation,  he  had  endeavored  to  strip 
himself  of  as  many  real  prejudices  as  he  could  ;  [  say  real 
ones,  because  under  the  notion  of  prejudices,  he  knew  to 
what  dangerous  heights'  some  men  have  proceeded.  Thus 
prepared,  he  thought  the  numerous  and  gross  corruptions 

him  feel  his  own  power,  so  the  multiplying  of  our  loves  and  affec- 
tions made  him  to  feel  our  griefs."  (Bacon's  Letters  vol  iii  n 
360.)     See  "  thistle,"  p.  527,  note  1.  ,        .      .,  p. 

'  Promus,  486.     Itch  and  ease  can  no  man  please.     In  Coriolanus 
Act  1.,  sc.  ],  p.  159,  we  have  :  ' 

"  Mar.  Thanks.— What's  the  matter,  you  dissentious  rogues 
That,  rubbing  the  poor  itch  of  your  opinion,  ' 

Make  yourselves  scabs  V" 

Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  132,  says  :  "  Juvenal,  in  the  motto  of  my  paper 
terms  it  a  cacoethes,  which  is  a  hard  word  for  a  disease  called  in 
plam  English,  the  itch  of  writing."  In  Defoe  we  have'-  "O'  if 
such  Justice  could  be  obtained  in  these  Pans  of  the  World  Mr 
Applebee,  how  effectually  would  it  cure  that  Itch  of  Scandal  tliat  so 
universally  overruns  the  Nation  !"     See  Lee,  vol.  iii.    p   123* 

^  This  use  of  the  word  "  porch"  may  be  found  in  many  places  in 
Bacons  writings.     And  see  this  work,  p.  461,  note  1. 
^This  expression,   "dangerous  heights,"  is  quite  common  with 
xiacon. 


554  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

in  religion  and  learning  might  fnrnish  matter  for  a  satire' 
that  would  be  useful  and  diverting.  He  resolved  to  pro- 
ceed in  a  manner  that  should  be  altogether  new,  the  world 
having  been  already  too  long  nauseated  with  endless  repe- 
titions upon  every  subject.  The  abuses  in  religion,  he 
proposed  to  set  forth  in  the  allegory  of  the  coats  and  the 
three  brothers,  which  was  to  make  up  the  body  of  the  dis- 
course :  those  in  learning  he  chose  to  introduce  by  way  of 
digressions."  • 

Three  platforms,  or  wooden  machines,  for  the  display  of 
intelligence  are  mentioned,  to  wit  :  the  pulpit,  the  ladder 
— that  is,  the  rostrum— and  the  stage.  The  author  after 
describing  the  first  two  says  of  the  last  :  "  The  last  engine 
of  orators  is  the  stage  itinerant,  erected  with  much  sagac- 
ity, suh  Jove  pluvio,  in  triviis  et  quadriviis.  It  is  the 
great  seminary  of  the  two  former,  and  its  orators  are  some- 
times preferred  to  the  one,  and  sometimes  to  the  other,  in 
proportion  to  their  deservings  ;  there  being  a  strict  and 
perpetual  intercourse  between  all  three. ^ 

"  From  this  accurate  deduction  it  is  manifest,  that  for 
obtaining  attention  in  public  there  is  of  necessity  required 
a  superior  position  of  place.  But,  although  this  point  be 
generally  granted,  yet  the  cause  is  little  agreed  in  ;  and  it 
seems  to  me  that  very  few  philosophers  have  fallen  into  a 
true,  natural  solution  of  this  phenomenon.  The  deepest 
account,  and  the  most  fairly  digested  of  any  I  have  yet 
met  with,  is  this  ;  that  air  being  a  heavy  body,  and  there- 
fore, according  to  the  system  of  Epicurus,  continually  de- 
scending, must  needs  be  more  so  when  loaded  and  pressed 
down  by  words  ;  which  are  also  bodies  of  much  weight 
and  gravity,  as  it  is  manifest  from  those  deep  impressions 

'  See  ch.  2  of  Book  7  of  the  De  Augmentis,  and  where  Bacon, 
touching  a  deficiency  of  learning  as  to  satire,  says  :  "  But  this  part, 
touching  respective  cautions  and  vices,  we  set  down  as  deficient. 
and  will  call  it  by  the  name  of  '  Serious  Satire,'  or  the  Treatise  of  the 
Inner  Nature  of  Things."  See  our  quotations  at  pp.  68  and  69. 
Promus,  457.  {That  man  \is  delighted]  with  satires  written  in  the 
manner  of  Bion,  and  with  biting  wit,  or  sarcasm.)  From  Defoe's 
Consolidator,  p.  226,  we  have:  "Strange  things  they  tell  us,  have 
been  done  witli  this  calcined  womb  of  imagination  ;  if  the  body  it 
came  from  was  a  lyric  poet,  the  child  will  be  a  beau,  or  a  beauty  ; 
if  an  heroic  poet,  he  will  be  a  bully  ;  if  his  talent  was  satire,  he 
will  be  a  philosopher."    As  totlie  word  "  womb,"  see  pp.  142  and  578. 

^  Please  see  the  Defoe  statement  concerning  the  stage  at  pp.  36 
and  68.' 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  555 

they  make  and  leave  upon  us  ;  and  therefore  must  be  de- 
livered from  a  due  altitude,  or  else  they  will  neither  cany 
a  good  aim,  nor  fall  down  with  a  sufficient  force." 
(Swift,  p.  48.) 

On  p.  49  we  have  : 

"  I  confess  there  is  something  yet  more  refined,  in  the 
contrivance  and  structure  of  our  modern  theatres.  For, 
first,  the  pit  is  sunk  below  the  stage,  with  due  regard  to 
the  instruction  above  deduced  ;  that,  whatever  weighty 
matter  shall  be  delivered  thence,  whether  it  be  lead  or  gold, 
may  fall  j^lwmp  into  the  jaws  of  certain  critics,  as  I  think 
they  are  called,  which  stand  ready  opened  to  devour  them. 
Then,  the  boxes  are  built  round,  and  raised  to  a  level  with 
the  scene,  in  deference  to  the  ladies  ;  because,  that  large 
jiortion  of  wit,  laid  out  in  raising  pruriences  and  protu- 
berances, is  observed  to  run  much  upon  a  line,  and  ever  in 
a  circle.  The  whining  passions,  and  little  starved  conceits, 
are  gently  wafted  up  by  their  own  extreme  levity,  to  the 
middle  region,'  and  there  fix  and  are  frozen  by  the  frigid 
understandings  of  the  inhabitants.  Bombastiy  and  buf- 
foonery, by  nature  lofty  and  light,  soar  highest  of  all, 
and  would  be  lost  in  the  roof,  if  the  prudent  architect  had 
not,  with  much  foresight,  contrived  for  them  a  fourth 
place,  called  the  twelve-penny  gallery,  and  there  planted  a 
suitable  colony,  who  greedily  intercept  them  in  their  pas- 
sage.^ 

"Now  this  physico-logical  scheme  of  oratorical  recepta- 
cles or  machines  contains  a  great  mystery  ;  being  a  type, 
a  sign,  an  emblem,  a  shadow,  a  symbol,  bearing  anal- 
ogy to  the  spacious  commonwealth  of  writers,  and  to  those 
methods  by  which  they  must  exalt  themselves  to  a  certain 
eminency  above  the  inferior  world." 

And  on  pp.  50-52  we  have  : 

"  Under  the  stage  itinerant  are  couched  those  produc- 
tions designed  for  the  pleasure  and  delight  of  mortal  man  ; 
such  as,  Six-penny-worth  of  \Yit,  Westminster  Drolleries, 
Delightful   Tales,   Complete  Jesters,   and    the   like  j    by 

'  Here , .attain,  we  have  Bacon's  distinctively  used  expression  "  mid- 
dle region."     Please  see  p.  43,  and  particularly  note  3.     ISee  also  nn 
24,  56,  1G3,  2;{1,  381,  and  388. 

*  And  so  this  literature  was  designed  to  meet  all  wants  of  the 
lower,  middle,  and  upper  classes.  "  For  I  have  taken  all  knowledge 
to  be  mj'  providence,"  says  Bacon.   See  p.  453. 


556  *        THREAD    OF   THE    LABYKINTH-. 

which  the  writers  of  and  for  Grul)  street^  have  in  these 
latter  ages  so  nobly  triumphed  over  Time  ;  have  clipped  his 
wings,  pared  his  nails,  filed  his  teeth,  turned  back  his 
hour-glass,  blunted  his  scythe,  and  drawn  the  hobnails  out 
of  his  shoes.'  It  is  under  this  class  1  have  presumed  to  list 
my  present  treatise,  being  Just  come  from  having  the  honour 
conferred  upon  me  to  be  adopted  a  member  of  that  illus- 
trious fraternity. 

"Now,  I  am  not  unaware  how  the  productions  of  tlie 
Grub-street  brotherhood  have  of  late  years  fallen  under 
many  prejudices,  nor  how  it  has  been  the  perpetual  employ- 
ment of  two  junior  start-up  societies  to  ridicule  them  and 
their  authors,  as  unworthy  their  established  post' in  the 
commonwealth  of  wit  and  learning.  Their  own  con- 
sciences will  easily  inform  them  whom  I  mean  ;  nor  has 
the  world  been  so  negligent  a  looker-on  as  not  to  observe 
the  continual  efforts  made  by  the  societies  of  Gresham  and 
of  Will's  to  edify  a  name  and  reputation  upon  the  ruin  of 
OURS.  And  this  is  yet  a  more  feeling  grief  to  us,  upon 
the  regards  of  tenderness  as  well  as  of  justice,  when  we 
reflect  on  their  proceedings  not  only  as  unjust,  but  as  un- 
grateful, undutif  ul,  and  unnatural.  For  how  can  it  be  for- 
got by  the  world  or  themselves,  to  say  nothing  of  our  own 
records,  which  are  full  and  clear  in  the  point,  that  they 
both  are  seminaries  not  only  of  our  planting,  but  our  water- 
ing too  ?  I  am  informed,  our  two  rivals  have  lately  made 
an  offer  to  enter  into  the  lists^  with  united  forces,  and  chal- 

'  Tlie  reader  must  not  fail  to  read  in  this  connection  the  telling 
article  concerning  Lord  Bacon  and  Grub  Street,  found  in  Addison, 
vol.  ii.,  pp.  173-75.  We  give  a  paragraph.  "  This  consideration 
very  much  comforts  me,  when  I  think  of  those  numberless  vermin 
that  feed  upon  this  paper,  and  find  their  substance  out  of  it  ;  I  mean 
the  small  wits  and  scribblers  that  every  day  turn  a  penny  by  nib- 
bling at  my  lucubrations.  This  has  been  so  advantageous  to  this 
little  species  of  writers,  that,  if  they  do  me  justice,  I  may  expect  to 
have  my  statue  erected  in  Grub  Street,  as  being  a  common  bene- 
factor to  that  quarter."  Note  in  the  article  the  expression  "  Dr. 
B— s's  dropping  his  cloak"  and  the  expression  "  under  the  title  of 
Atlantis."  Head  this  article  and  the  one  following  it  in  connection 
with  Sonnets  53,  67.  68  and  78. 

^  Note,  again,  the  emphasis  placed  upon  the  subject  of  time  in  all 
of  these  writings,  and  particularly  in  the  sonnets. 

^  Observe  the  use  of  this  word  "  lists"  in  the  plays.  Bacon  says  : 
"  If,  liowever.  we  have  departed  from  the  ancient  and  received 
opinions,  and  arrayed  opponents  against  us,  we  have  not  affected 
contradiction,  and  therefore  will  not  enter  into  the  lists  of  couten- 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  557 

lenge  ns  to  a  comparison  of  books,  both  as  to  weight  and 
number.  In  return  to  which,  with  license  from  our  presi- 
dent, I  humbly  offer  two  answers  ;  first,  we  say,  the  propo- 
sal is  like  that  which  Archimedes  made  upon  a  smaller 
affair,  including  an  impossibility  in  the  practice  ;  for  where 
can  they  find  sciiles  of  capacity  enough  for  the  first ;  or  an 
arithmetician  of  capacity  enough  for  the  second  ?  Secondly, 
w^e  are  ready  to  accept  the  challenge  ;  but  with  this  condi- 
tion, that  a  third  indifferent  person  be  assigned,  to  whose 
impartial  judgment  it  should  be  left  to  decide  which  society 
each  book,  treatise,  or  pamphlet  do  most  properly  belong  to. 
ThisiJoint,  God  knows,  is  very  far  from  being  fixed  at  pres- 
ent ;  for  we  are  ready  to  produce  a  catalogue  of  some 
thousands,  which  in  all  common  justice  ought  to  be  entitled 
to  our  fraternity,  but  by  the  revolted  and  new-fangled 
writers,  most  perfidiously  ascribed  to  the  others." 

And  on  pp.  52  and  53  we  have  : 

"But  the  greatest  maim  given  to  that  general  reception 
which  the  writings  of  our  society  have  formerly  received 
(next  to  the  transitory  state  of  all  sublunary  things)  has 
been  a  superficial  vein  among  many  readers  of  the  present 
age,  who  will  by  no  means  be  persuaded  to  inspect  beyond 
the  surface  and  the  rind  of  things  ;  whereas,  wisdom  is  a 
fox,  who,  after  long  hunting  will  at  last  cost  you  the  pains 
to  dig  out ;  it  is  a  cheese,  which,  by  how  much  the  richer, 
has  the  thicker,  the  homelier,  and  the  coarser  coat  ;  and 
whereof,  to  the  judicious  palate,  the  maggots' are  the  best  : 
it  is  a  sack-posset,  wherein  the  deeper  you  go,  you  will  find 
it  the  sweeter.  Wisdom  is  a  hen,  whose  cackling  we  must 
value  and  consider,  because  it  is  attended  with  an  egg  ;^ 
but  then  lastly,  it  is  a  nut,'  which,  unless  you  choose  with 

tion."     (De  Augmentis,  ch.  6,  Book  3,  Bolin  ed.,  p.  149.)    And  ia 
Pericles,  Act  i.,  sc.  1,  p.  289,  we  have  : 

"  Per.  Like  a  bokl  cliampion,  I  assume  tlie  lists, 
Nor  ask  advice  of  anj^  other  thought 
But  faithfulness,  and  courage." 

*  See  this  use  of  the  literary  "  maggot"  by  Defoe,  p.  451. 

»  As  to  the  hen,  see  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  pp.  286  and  287. 

» In  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  pp.  356  and  357,  we  have  :  "  While 
they  were  thus  talking,  they  were  presented  with  another  dish,  and 
it  was  a  dish  of  imts.  (Song  6  :  11.)  Then  said  some  at  the  table. 
Nuts  spoil  tender  teeth,  especially  the  teeth  of  children.  Which, 
when  Gaius  heard  he  said  : 


558  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  ] 

judgment,  may  cost  you  a  tooth,  and  pay  yon  with  notli- 
ing  but  a  worm.  In  consequence  of  these  momentous 
truths,  the  grubfean  sages  have  always  chosen  to  convey 
their  precepts  and  their  arts  shut  up  within  the  vehicles  of 
types  and  fables  ;  which  having  been  perhaps  more  careful 
and  curious  in  adorning  than  was  altogether  necessary,  it 
has  fared  with  these  vehicles,  after  the  usual  fate  of  coaches 
over-finely  painted  and  gilt,  that  the  transitory  gazers  have 
so  dazzled  their  eyes  and  filled  their  imaginations  with  the 
outward  lustre,  as  neither  to  regard  nor  consider  the  person 
or  the  parts  of  the  owner  within.  A  misfortune  we  un- 
dergo with  somewhat  less  reluctancy,  because  it  has  been 
common  to  us  with  Pythagoras,  ^sop,  Socrates,  and  other 
of  our  predecessors."  '  Please  see  the  balance  of  this 
section. 

As  we  have  seen,  Bacon  marked  out  for  himself  the  work 
of  weeding  the  Church  from  Henry  the  Eighth's  con- 
fusion. And  so  the  alternating  or  second  section  of  this 
article  opens  with  elements  concerning  the  Church  and  its 
errors  and  divisions.  This  is  represented  by  three  broth- 
ers trying  to  conform  to  their  father's  will,  at  the  same 
time  reasoning  away  its  provisions  when  in  conflict  with 
their  desires. 

They  are  represented  the  product  of  one  birth,  the 
midwife  being  unable  to  tell  with  certainty  which  was  the 
eldest.  Peter  is  supposed  to  represent  the  Roman  Church, 
Martin,  to  represent  the  views  held  by  Martin  Luther,  and. 
Jack  those  held  by  John  Calvin.  The  property  conferred 
by  the  will  was  new  coats  for  each,  which  with  good  wear- 

"  '  Hard  texts  are  nuts  (I  will  not  call  them  cheaters), 
Whose  shells  do  keep  their  kernels  from  the  eaters  : 
Open  the  shells,  and  you  shall  have  the  meat  ; 
They  here  are  brought  for  you  to  crack  and  eat.'  " 

'  Bacon  says  :  "  And  hence  the  ancient  times  are  full  of  all  kinds 
of  fables,  parables,  enigmas,  and  similitudes  ;  as  may  appear  by  the 
numbers  of  Pythagoras,  the  enigmas  of  the  Sphinx,  the  fables  of 
^sop,  and  the  like.  The  Apophthegms  too  of  the  ancient  sagis 
commonly  explained  the  matter  by  similitudes.  Thus  Menenius 
Agrippa  among  the  Romans  (a  nation  at  that  time  by  no  means 
learned)  quelled  a  sedition  by  a  fable.  In  a  word,  as  hieroglyphics 
were  before  letters,  so  parables  were  before  arguments.  And  even 
now,  and  at  all  times,  the  force  of  parableg  is  and  has  been  excel- 
lent ;  because  arguments  cannot  be  made  Sq  perspicuous  nor  true 
examples  so  apf."  (De  Augmenlis,  ch.  18,  Book  2.)  See  pp.  224  and 
459,  and  see  tlie  Addison  article  on  fables,  p.  70. 


THREAD   OF  THE   LABYRINTH.  559 

in^,  it  was  said,  would  last  fresh  and  sound  as  long  as  they 
lived,  and  that  they  would  grow  with  their  bodies.  The 
will  gave  instructions  how  to  wear  them.  For  seven  years 
they  are  said  to  have  kept  their  coats  in  good  order  and  to 
have  travelled  through  countries  where  they  encountered 
giants  and  slew  dragons.  Thus  they  continued  until  they 
"  arrived  at  the  proper  age  for  producing  themselves,"  when 
they  came  up  to  the  town  and  fell  in  love  with  the  ladies, 
and  especially  three,  which  in  a  foot-note  are  said  to  be 
covetousness,  ambition,  and  pride.  These  were  in  chief 
reputation.  They  were  at  the  top  of  the  fashion  at  court 
and  favored  the  new  sect,  concerning  which  it  is,  at  pp. 
59-63,  said  :' 

"  For  about  this  time  it  happened  a  sect  arose  whose 
tenets  obtained  and  spread  very  far,  especially  at  the  grand 
mojide,  and  among  every  body  of  good  fashion.  They 
worshipped  a  sort  of  idol,  who,  as  their  doctrine  delivered, 
did  daily  create  men  by  a  kind  of  manufactory  operation. 
This  idol  they  placed  in  the  highest  part  of  the  house,  on 
an  altar  erected  about  three  foot  ;  he  was  shown  in  the 
posture  of  a  Persian^  emperor,  sitting  on  a  superficies,  with 
his  legs  interwoven  under  him.  This  god  had  a  goose  for 
his  ensign  ;  whence  it  is  that  some  learned  men  pretend  to 
deduce  his  original  from  Jupiter  Capitolinus.  At  his  left 
hand,  beneath  the  altar,  hell  seemed  to  open  and  catch  at 
the  animals  the  idol  was  creating  ;  to  prevent  which,  cer- 
tain of  his  priests  hourly  flung  in  pieces  of  the  uninformed 
mass,  or  substance,  and  sometimes  whole  limbs  already 
enlivened,  which  that  horrid  gulf  insatiably  swallowed, 
terrible  to  behold.     The  goose'  was  also  held  a  subaltern 


'  Tliis  may  be  intended  to  represent  a  time  prior  to  tlie  establish- 
ment of  the  doctrine  of  the  Roman  supremacy  in  the  Church, 

«  See  p.  48  and  p.  90,  note  2. 

*  As  to  this  "  goose"  or  goddess,  we  from  Love's  Labour's  Lost, 
Act  iv.,  sc.  3,  p.  418,  quote  as  follows  : 

"  Bir.  [Aside.]    O  !  rhymes  are  guards  on  wanton  Cupid's  hose  : 
Disfigure  not  his  slop. 

Lon.  This  same  shall  go. — 

[Reads.]    '  Did  not  the  heavenly  rhetoric  of  thine  eye, 
'Gainst  whom  the  world  cannot  hold  argument. 
Persuade  my  heart  to  this  false  perjury  ? 
Vows  for  thee  broke  deserve  not  punishment. 
A  woman  I  forswore  ;  but  I  will  prove, 
Thou  being  a  goddess.  I  forswore  not  thee  : 


560  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYIIINTH. 

divinity  or  deus  minorum  gentium,  before  whose  shrine 
was  sacrificed  that  creature  whose  hourly  food  is  human 
gore,  and  who  is  in  so  great  renown  abroad  for  being  the 
delight  and  favorite  of  the  ^Egyptian  Cercopithecus. 
Millions  of  these  animals  were  cruelly  slaughtered  every  day 
to  appease  the  hunger  of  that  consuming  deity.  The  chief 
idol  was  also  worshipped  as  the  inventor  of  the  yard  and 
needle  ;  whether  as  the  god  of  seamen  or  on  account  of 
certain  other  mystical  attributes,  has  not  been  suJB&ciently 
cleared. 

"  The  worshippers  of  this  deity  had  also  a  system  of 
their  belief,  which  seemed  to  turn  upon  the  following 
fundamentals.  They  held  the  universe  to  be  a  large  suit 
of  clothes,  which  invests  everything  ;  that  the  earth  is  in- 
vested by  the  air  ;  the  air  is  invested  by  the  stars  ;  and 
the  stars  are  invested  hy  theprimnvi  mobile.  Look  on  this 
globe  of  earth,  you  will  find  it  to  be  a  very  complete  and 
fashionable  dress.  What  is  that  which  some  call  land  but 
a  fine  coat  faced  with  green  ?  or  the  sea,  but  a  waistcoat  of 
water-tabby  ?  Proceed  to  the  particular  works  of  the 
creation,  you  will  find  how  curious  journeymen  Nature 
has  been  to  trim  up  the  vegetable  beaux  ;  observe  how 
sparkish  a  periwig  adorns  the  head  of  a  beech,  and  what  a 
fine  doublet  of  white  satin  is  worn  by  the  birch.  To  con- 
clude from  all,  what  is  man  himself  but  a  micro- coat  or 
rather  a  complete  suit  of  clothes  with  all  its  trimmings  ?* 

My  vow  was  earthly,  tbou  a  heavenly  love  ; 
Thy  grace  being  gaiu'd,  cures  all  disgrace  in  me. 
Vows  are  but  breath,  and  breath  a  vapour  is  : 
Then  thou,  fair  sun,  which  on  my  earth  doth  shine, 
Exhal'st  this  vapour  vow  ;  in  thee  it  is  : 
If  broken,  then,  it  is  nu  fault  of  mine  : 
If  by  me  broke,  what  fool  is  not  so  wise, 
To  lose  an  oath  to  win  a  paradise  ?' 

Bir.  [Aside.]   This  is  the  liver  vein,  which  makes  flesh  a  deity  ; 
A  green  goose,  a  goddess  :  pure,  pure  idolatry. 
God  amend  us,  God  amend  !  we  are  much  out  o'  the  way." 

'  Bacon  says  :  "  Lastly,  if  a  man  still  urge,  that  yet  it  cannot  be 
denied  but  that  on  the  surface  of  the  earth  Itself  and  the  parts  next 
thereto  there  are  innumerable  changes  ;  in  the  heavens  not  so  ; — I 
would  answer,  first  that  I  do  not  mean  that  they  are  equal  in  every- 
thing ;  and  yet,  secondly,  that  if  we  take  the  regions  which  they  call 
the  upper  and  middle  region  of  the  air  for  the  surface  or  inner  coat 
of  the  licavens,  in  the  same  manner  as  we  take  this  region  here  in 
w  iiich  animals,  plants,  and  minerals  are  contained,  for  the  surface  or 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  5G1 

As  to  his  body  there  can  be  no  dispute  ;  but  examine  even 
the  acquirements  of  his  mind,  you  will  find  them  all  con- 
tribute in  their  order  towards  furnishing  out  an  exact 
dress  :  to  instauce  no  more  ;  is  not  religion  a  cloak,  hon- 
esty and  pair  of  shoes  worn  out  in  the  dirt,  self-love  a  sur- 
tout,  vanity  a  shirt,  and  conscience  a  pair  of  breeches, 
which,  though  a  cover  for  lewdness  as  well  as  nastiness,  is 
easily  slipped  down  for  the  service  of  both  ? 

"  These  postulata  being  admitted,  it  will  follow  in  due 
course  of  reasoning  that  those  beings,  which  the  world 
calls  improperly  suits  of  clothes,  are  in  reality  the  most 
retined  species  of  animals  ;  or,  to  proceed  higher,'  that 
they  are  rational  creatures  or  men.  For,  is  it  not  manifest 
that  they  live,  and  move,  and  talk,  and  perform  all  other 
offices  of  human  life  ?  are  not  beauty,  and  wit,  and  mien, 
and  breeding,  their  inseparable  proprieties  ?  in  short,  we 
see  nothing  but  them,  hear  nothing  but  them.  Is  it  not 
they  who  walk  the  streets,  fill  up  parliament-,  coffee-,  play-, 
bawdy-houses  ?  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  these  animals, 
which  are  vulgarly  called  suits  of  clothes,  or  dresses,  do, 
according  to  certain  compositions,  receive  different  appella- 
tions. If  one  of  them  be  trimmed  up  with  a  gold  chain, 
and  a  red  gown,  and  white  rod,  and  a  great  horse,  it  is 
called  a  lord-mayor  :  if  certain  ermines  and  fur  be  placed 
in  a  certain  position,  we  style  them  a  judge  ;  and  so  an 
apt  conjunction  of  lawn  and  black  satin  we  entitle  a  bishop.^ 

outer  coat  of  the  earth,  we  shall  find  there  also  various  and  multi- 
form generations  and  changes."  See  this  subject,  Phil.  Worlis, 
vol.  v.,  pp.  487-440.  And  further  as  to  the  word  "  coat"  see  vol.  iii., 
pp  440  and  482.  Much  might  be  introduced  touching  the  coats  did 
space  permit.  Bacon  says  :  "  Behavior  seemeth  to  me  as  a  garment 
of  the^  mind,  and  to  have  the  conditions  of  a  garment."  (Phil. 
Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  447.)    See  p.  61,  note  2. 

'  "To  proceed  higher"  is  a  Baconian  expression. 
^  Look  in  the  plays  for  these  elements.    Was  this,  or  was  tliat  which 
follows  in  the  text,  the  Pythagorean  system  ?  or  is  that  which  fol- 
lows the  Baconian  system.     Touching  the  "  coats,"  we  from  As  You 
Like  It,  Act  ii.,  sc.  7,  p.  185,  quote  thus  : 

"  Jaq.     O,  worthy  fool  !— One  that  hath  been  a  courtier, 

And  says,  if  ladies  be  but  young  and  fair, 

They  have  the  gift  to  know  it  ;  and  in  his  brain, 

AVhich  is  as  dry  as  the  remainder  biscuit 

After  a  voyage,  he  hath  strange  places  cramm'd 

With  observation,  the  which  he  vents 

In  mangled  forms. — O,  that  I  were  a  fool  ! 

I  am  ambitious  for  a  motley  coat. 


563  THUEAD  OF  TUE  LABYRINTH. 

"  Others  of  these  professors,  though  agreeing  in  the 
main  system,  were  yet  more  refined  upon  certain  branches 
of  it  ;  and  held  that  man  was  an  animal  compounded  of 
two  dresses,  the  natural  and  celestial  suit,  which  were  the 
body  and  the  soul  :  that  the  soul  was  the  outward,  and  the 
body  the  inward  clothing  ;  that  the  latter  was  ex  traduce; 
but  the  former  of  daily  creation  and  circumfusion  ;  this 
last  they  proved  by  scripture,  because  in  them  we  live, 
and  move,  and  have  our  being  ;  as  likewise  by  philosophy, 
because  they  are  all  in  all,  and  all  in  every  part.  Besides, 
said  they,  separate  these  two  and  you  will  find  the  body 
to  be  only  a  senseless  unsavory  carcass  ;  by  all  which  it  is 
manifest  that  the  outward  dress  must  needs  be  the  soul. 

"  To  this  system  of  religion  were  tagged  several  subaltern 
doctrines,  which  were  entertained  with  great  vogue  :  as 
particularly  the  faculties  of  the  mind  were  deduced  by  the 
learned  among  them  in  this  manner  ;  embroidery  was 
sheer  wit,  gold  fringe  was  agreeable  conversation,  gold 
lace  was  repartee,  a  huge  long  periwig  was  humour,  and  a 
coat  full  of  powder  was  very  good  raillery — all  which  re- 
quired abundance  oi  finesse  and  delicatesse  to  manage  with 
advantage,  as  well  as  a  strict  observance  after  times  and 
fashions. 

"  I  have,  with  much  pains  and  reading,  collected  out 
of  ancient  authors  this  short  summary  of  a  body  of  philos- 
ophy and  divinity,  which  seems  to  have  been  composed  by 
a  vein  and  race  of  thinking  very  diiferent  from  any  other 

Duke.     Thou  slialt  have  one. 

Jaq.  It  is  my  only  suit  ; 

Provided,  that  you  weed  your  better  judgments 
Of  all  opinion  that  grows  rank  in  them, 
That  I  am  wise.     I  must  have  liberty 
Withal,  as  large  a  charter  as  the  wind, 
To  blow  on  whom  I  please  ;  for  so  fools  have  : 
And  they  that  are  most  galled  with  my  folly. 
They  most  must  laugh.     And  why,  sir,  must  they  so  ? 
The  why  is  plain  as  way  to  parish  Church  : 
He,  that  a  fool  doth  very  wisely  hit, 
Doth  very  foolishly,  although  he  smart, 
Not  to  seem  senseless  of  the  bob  ;  if  not. 
The  wise  man's  folly  is  anatomiz'd, 
Even  by  the  squandering  glances  of  the  fool. 
Invest  me  in  my  motley  ;  give  me  leave 
To  speak  my  mind,  and  I  will  through  and  through 
Cleanse  the  foul  body  of  the  infected  world. 
If  they  will  patiently  receive  my  medicine." 


THREAD  OF  TUE  LABYKINTH.  563 

systems  either  ancient  or  modern.  And  it  was  not  merely 
to  entertain  or  satisfy  the  reader's  curiosity,  but  rather  to 
give  him  light  into  several  circumstances  of  the  following 
story  ;  that,  knowing  the  state  of  dispositions  and  o})inions 
in  an  age  so  remote,  he  may  better  comprehend  those  great 
events  which  were  the  issue  of  them.  I  advise,  therefore, 
the  courteous  reader  to  peruse  with  a  world  of  application, 
again  and  again,  whatever  I  have  written  upon  this  mat- 
ter. And  so  leaving  these  broken  ends,  I  carefully  gather 
up  the  chief  thread  of  my  story  and  proceed. 

"  These  opinions,  therefore,  were  so  universal,  as  well 
as  the  practices  of  them,  among  the  refined  part  of  court 
and  town,  that  our  three  brother  adventurers,  as  their  cir- 
cumstances then  stood,  were  strangely  at  a  loss.  For,  on 
the  one  side,  the  three  ladies  they  addressed  themselves 
to,  whom  we  have  named  already,  were  ever  at  the  very 
top  of  the  fashion,  and  abhorred  all  that  were  below  it  but 
the  breadth  of  a  hair.  On  the  other  side,  their  father's 
will  was  very  precise  ;  and  it  was  the  main  precept  in  it, 
with  the  greatest  penalties  annexed,  not  to  add  to  or 
diminish  from  tiieir  coats  one  thread,  without  a  positive 
command  in  the  will.  Now,  the  coats  their  father  had 
left  them  were,  it  is  true,  of  very  good  cloth,  and  besides  so 
neatly  sewn,  you  would  swear  they  were  all  of  a  piece  ; 
but  at  the  same  time  very  plain,  and  with  little  or  no 
ornament  :  and  it  happened  that  before  they  were  a  month 
in  town  great  shoulder-knots  came  up — straight  all  the 
world  was  shoulder  knots — no  approaching  the  ladies 
rnelles  without  the  qicota  of  shoulder-knots.  That  fellow, 
cries  one,  has  no  soul  ;  where  is  his  shoulder-knot  ?'" 

And  on  p.  G8  it  is  said  :  "  Kesolved,  therefore,  at  all 
hazards,  to  comply  with  the  modes  of  the  world,  they  con- 
certed matters  together,  and  agreed  unanimously  to  lock 
up  their  father's  will  in  a  strong  box,  brought  out  of 
Greece  or  Italy,  I  have  forgotten  which,  and  trouble  them- 
selves no  further  to  examine  it,  but  only  refer  to  its 
authority  whenever  they  thought  lit." 

Section  three  again  opens  the  subject  of  critics  by  dis- 
tinguishing them  into  three  classes.  The  lirst  of  these 
are  said  to  be  such  as  have  "  invented  or  drawn  up  rules 
for  themselves  and  the  world,  by  observing  which  a  caiefiil 

'  Sec  "  sliouldei-kuot,"  p.  Gl,  note  2. 


564  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  " 

reader  might  be  uble  to  pronounce  upon  the  productions 
of  the  learned,  form  his  taste  to  a  true  relish  of  the  sub- 
lime and  the  admirable,  and  divide  every  beauty  of  matter 
or  of  style  from  the  corruption  that  apes  it." 

Concerning  the  otiier  two  species  we,  pp.  70  and  71,  quote 
thus  : 

"  Again,  by  the  word  critic  have  been  meant  the  re- 
storers of  ancient  learning  from  the  worms,  and  graves, 
and  dust  of  manuscripts. 

"  Now  the  races  of  those  two  have  been  for  some  ages 
utterly  extinct  ;  and  besides,  to  discourse  any  further  of 
them  would  not  be  at  all  to  my  purpose. 

' '  The  third  and  noblest  sort  is  that  of  the  TRUE  CEITIO,' 
whose  original  is  the  most  ancient  of  all.  Every  true  crit- 
ic is  a  hero  born,  descended  in  a  direct  line  from  a  celes- 
tial stem  by  Momus  and  llybris,  who  begat  Zoilus,  who 
begat  Tigellius,  who  begat  Etcetera  the  elder  ;  who  begat 
Bentley,  and  Rymer,  and  Wotton,  and  Perrault,  and  Den- 
nis ;  who  begat  Etcajtera  the  younger. 

"  And  these  arc  the  critics  from  whom  the  common- 
wealth of  learning  has  in  all  ages  received  such  immense 
benefits,  that  the  gratitude  of  their  admirers  placed  their 
origin  in  the  Heaven,  among  those  of  Herciiles,  Theseus, 
Perseus,  and  other  great  deservers  of  mankind.  But 
heroic  virtue  itself  has  not  been  exempt  from  obloquy  of 
evil  tongues.  For  it  has  been  objected  that  those  ancient 
heroes,  famous  for  their  combatting  so  many  giants,  and 
dragons,  and  robbers,  were  in  their  own  persons  a  greater 
nuisance  to  mankind  than  any  of  those  monsters  they 
subdued  ;  and  therefore,  to  render  their  obligations  more 
complete,  when  all  other  vermin  were  destroyed,  should, 
in  conscience,  have  concluded  with  the  same  justice  upon 
themselves.  As  Hercules  most  generously  did,  and  upon 
that  score  procured  to  himself  more  temples  and  votaries 
than  the  best  of  his  fellows."  For  these  reasons  I  sup- 
pose it  is  why  some  have  conceived  it  would  be  very  ex- 
pedient for  the  public  good  of  learning  that  every  true 

'  As  to  the  true  critic,  see  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  pp.  148-53  and  231-34. 
In  the  works  of  Addison,  as  we  have  said.  Bacon  sat  as  his  own 
critic,  whose  chair  is  mentioned  in  ch.  4  of  Book  6  of  the  De  Aug- 
mentis.     See  p.  31,  note  1,  and  pp.  188-192. 

'•^  As  in  the  other  parts,  so  in  Swift,  do  we  find  this  same  'jse  of 
the  word  "  fellows." 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  565 

critic,  as  soon  as  he  had  finished  his  task  assigned,  should 
immediately  deliver  himself  up  to  rats  bane,  or  hemp,  or 
leap  from  some  convenient  altitude  ;  and  that  no  man's 
pretensions  to  so  illustrious  a  character  should  by  any 
means  be  received  before  that  operation  were  performed. 

"  Now,  from  this  heavenly  descent  of  criticism,  and  the 
close  analogy  it  bears  to  heroic  virtue,  it  is  easy  to  assign 
the  proper  employment  of  a  true  ancient  genuine  critic, 
which  is,  to  travel  through  this  vast  world  of  writings  ; 
to  peruse  and  hunt  those  monstrous  faults  bred  within 
them  ;  to  drag  out  the  lurking  errors,  like  Cacus  from  his 
den  ;  to  multiply  them  like  Hydra's  heads  ;  and  rake 
them  together  like  Augeas's  dung  :  or  else  drive  away  a 
sort  of  dangerous  fowl,  who  have  a  perverse  inclination  to 
plunder  the  best  branches  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  like 
those  stymphalian  birds  that  eat  up  the  fruit." 

From  pp.  75-77  will  appear  the  necessities  which  have 
induced  the  true  critic  to  assume  a  mask,  cover,  or  weed  in 
the  performance  of  his  work.  That  the  words  as  covers 
may  be  the  better  cloak,  offensive  ones  were  anciently 
chosen,  such  as  an  "Ass,"  a  "  Serpent,"  etc'  And  on 
p.  76  it  is  said  :  "  The  usual  exercise  of  these  young 
students  was  to  attend  constantly  at  theatres,  and  learn  to 
spy  out  the  worst  parts  of  the  play,  whereof  they  were 
obliged  carefully  to  take  note  and  render  a  rational  ac- 

1  See  p.  460,  note  1.  la  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  886,  we  have  :  "  In 
a  word,  your  high  nonsense  has  a  majestic  appearance,  and  wears  a 
most  tremendous  garb,  like  ^sop's  ass  clothed  in  a  lion's  skiii." 
And  in  the  same  article  :  "  A  man  may  as  well  hope  to  distinguish 
colours  in  the  midst  of  darkness,  as  to  find  out  what  to  approve  and 
disapprove  in  nonsense  ;  you  may  as  well  assault  an  army  that  is 
buried  in  intrenchments.  If  it  aflirms  anything,  you  cannot  lay  hold 
of  it  ;  or  if  it  denies,  you  cannot  confute  it.  la  a  word,  there  are 
greater  depths  and  obscurities,  greater  intricacies  and  perplexi- 
ties, in  an  elaborate  and  well-written  piece  of  nonsense,  than  in 
the  most  abstruse  and  profound  tract  of  school-divinity. "_  And, 
same  article  :  "  We  meet  with  a  low  grovelling  nonsense  iu  every 
Grub -Street  production  ;  but  I  thiak  there  are  none  of  our  present 

writers  who  have  hit  the  sublime  in  nonsense,  besides  Dr.  S 1  in 

divioity,  and  the  author  of  this  letter  ia  politics  ;  between  whose 
characters  in  their  respective  professions,  there  seems  to  be  a  very 
nice  resemblance."  See  same  subject,  Addison,  vol.  v.,  p.  318. 
Thus  did  Bacon  bring  forth  desired  ends  in  both  religion  and  govern- 
ment, by  pitting  his  characters,  in  a  measure,  one  against  another. 
He  says:  "But  I  undertake  these  things  at  the  risk  of  others," 
p.  181.     To  lessen  this  risk  he  resorted  to  device. 


566  THREAD   OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

count  to  their  tutors.  Fleshed  at  these  smaller  sports, 
like  young  wolves,  they  grew  up  in  time  to  be  nimble  and 
strong  enough  for  hunting  down  large  game.  For  it  has 
been  observed,  both  among  ancients  and  moderns,  that  a 
true  critic  has  one  quality  in  common  with  a  whore  and 
an  alderman,  never  to  change  his  title  or  his  nature  ;  that 
a  gray  critic  has  been  certainly  a  green  one,  the  perfec- 
tions and  acquirements  of  his  age  being  only  the  improved 
talent  of  his  youth  ;  like  hemp,  which  some  naturalists 
inform  us  is  bad  for  suffocations,  though  taken  but  in  the 
seed." 

And  on  p.  77  we  have  :  "  Now,  it  is  certain  the  institu- 
tion of  the  true  critics  was  of  absolute  necessity  to  the 
commonwealth  of  learning.  For  all  human  actions  seem 
to  be  divided,  like  Themistocles  and  his  company  ;  one 
man  can  fiddle,  and  another  can  make  a  small  town  a 
great  city  ;  and  he  that  cannot  do  either  one  or  the  other 
deserves  to  be  kicked  out  of  the  creation.  The  avoiding 
of  which  penalty  has  doubtless  given  the  first  birth  to  the 
nation  of  critics  ;  and  withal,  an  occasion  for  their  secret 
detractors  to  report  that  a  true  critic  is  a  sort  of  mechanic, 
set  up  with  a  stock  and  tools  for  his  trade  at  as  little  ex- 
pense as  a  tailor  ;  and  that  there  is  much  analogy  between 
the  utensils  and  abilities  of  both  :  that  the  tailor's  hell  is 
the  type  of  the  critic's  common-place  book,  and  his  wit 
and  learning  held  forth  by  the  goose  ;'  that  it  requires  at 
least  as  many  of  these  to  the  making  up  of  one  scholar,  as 
of  the  others  to  the  composition  of  a  man  ;  that  the 
valour  of  both  is  equal,  and  their  weai^ons  nearly  of  a  size." 

And  the  section  ends  in  these  words:  "Thus  much, 
I  think,  is  sufficient  to  serve  by  way  of  address  to  my 
patrons,  the  true  modern  critics  ;  and  may  very  well  atone 
for  my  past  silence,  as  well  as  that  which  I  am  likely  to 
observe  for  the  future.  I  hope  I  have  deserved  so  well  of 
their  wliole  body  as  to  meet  with  generous  and  tender 
usage  at  their  hands.  Supported  by  which  expectation, 
I  go  on  boldly  to  pursue  those  adventures  already  so  hap- 
pily begun," 

'  We  thus  see  that  the  word  "  goose"  is  in  this  article  used  in  a 
double  sense  :  first,  as  applied  to  morals  or  religion  ;  and  secondly, 
as  to  eriuioisin,  according  as  the  sections  of  the  article  alternate 
from  one  subject  to  the  other.  The  article  has  indeed  great  sub- 
tlety.    See  knot  and  thread,  p.  315. 


THREAD    OF   THE   LABYRINTH. 


)G7 


This  article  is   said  to  have  been   composed  in   early 
years,  but  later  was  made  to  bend  itself,  as  we  shall  claim, 
in  the  direction  of  Bacon's  troubles,  being  a  great  satire 
upon  James  the  First,  upon  himself,  and  his  thwarted  lite 
aims.     It  'is  said  to  have  been  produced  as  we  now  bnd 
it  when  the  author's  original  papers  were  out  of  his  pos- 
session.    The  section  on  the  "  History  of  Martm     instead 
of  falling  within,  is  placed  at  the  end  of  the  article,     ihis 
in  earlier  editions  appeared  under  the  title      Wliat  i^ ol- 
io ws  Section  9  in  the  Manuscript,"  but  by  Swift  s  direc- 
tion it  is  said  to  have  been  omitted.     As  its  position  is 
uncertain,  we  shall  introduce  at  this  juncturewhat  we  care 
to  say  of  it  before  proceeding  to  Section  4.     it   in    briet 
words  traces  the  history  of  the  Church  from  the  reign  of 
Henry  the  Eighth  ;  in  other  words,  from  the  lletormatioii 
to  the  reign  ol  Charles  the  First,  with  the  position  which 
each   monarch— Henry  the   Eighth,  Edward  the   Sixth, 
Mary,  Elizabeth,  James  the  First,  and  Charles  the  i^irst 
-took  concerning  Peter  (the  Papist),  Martin  (the  Church 
of  England),  and  Jack  (Calvin  or  the  Nonconformists  ). 
In  the  reign  of  James  the  First  the  fear  of  a  union  be- 
tween Peter  and  a  branch  of  Jack's  disciples,  the  delists, 
is  said  to  have  caused  a  breach  in  the  author  s  methods, 
and   so  in  this  section   on  the  History  of  Martin,  P-  159, 
we  have  :  "  How  the  author  finds  himself  embarrassed  tor 
having  introduced  into  his  history  a  new  sect,  differing 
from  the  three  he  had  undertaken  to  treat  of,  and  how  his 
inviolable  respect  to  the  sacred  number  ^Aree  obliges  him 
to  reduce  these  four,  as  he  intends  to  do  all  other  things, 
to  that  number,   and  for  that  end  to  drop  the   former 
Martin,  and  to  substitute  in  his  place  lady  Bess's  institu- 
tion, which  is  to  pass  under  the  name  of  Martin  in  the 
sequel  to  this  true  history." 

From  the  same  page  concerning  Queen  Bess,  or  E  iza- 
beth,  and  James  the  First  we  quote  thus:  "How  lady 
Bess  and  her  physicians,  being  told  of  many  defects  and 
imperfections  in  their  new  medley  dispensatory,  resolved 

>  In  Defoe's  "  Consolidator"  the  methods  of  these  parties  will  be 
found  elaborated.  As  to  the  methods  suggested  to  the  Crolians  or 
Nonconformists,  see  pp.  337-46  of  the  "Consolidator,  and  where 
the  Gulluvarian  monarch  is  referred  to.  ,  t     i  .    ^  n 

»  The  real  end  aimed  at  by  Peter  and  a  portion  of  Jack  s  followers 
is  represented  in  the  article  as  the  same. 


5GS  TITRRAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

on  a  further  alteration,  and  to  purge  it  from  a  great  deal 
of  Peter's  trash  tliat  still  remained  in  it,  but  were  pi-e- 
vented  by  her  death.'  How  she  was  succeeded  by  a  North- 
country  farmer,  who  pretended  great  skill  in  the  man- 
aging of  farms,  though  he  could  never  govern  his  own 
poor  little  farm,"  nor  yet  this  large  new  one  after  he  got 
it.^  How  this  new  landlord,  to  show  his  valour  and  dex- 
terity, fought  against  enchanters,  weeds,  giants,  and  wind- 
mills, and  claimed  great  honour  for  his  victories,  though 
he  ofttimes  b — sh — t  himself  when  there  was  no  danger. 
How  his  successor,  no  wiser  than  he,  occasioned  great  dis- 
orders by  the  new  methods  he  took  to  manage  his  farms. 
How  he  attempted  to  establish,  in  his  northern  farm,  the 
same  dispensatory  used  in  the  southern,  but  miscarried 
because  Jack's  powders,  pills,  salves,  and  plasters*  were 
there  in  great  vogue." 

See  this  management  set  out  in  Defoe's  "  Consolidator. " 
To  fully  understand  the  situation  of  the  shi|t  as  to 
parties,  this  "  History  of  Martin"  must  be  read.  At  this 
writing  we  have  the  impression,  though  not  fully  digested, 
that  the  dual  character  of  The  Tempest  as  to  James 
and    the   screen   Buckingham    is   here   again   attempted. 

'  Bacon's  desire  to  do  this  we  have  considered  in  connection  with 
the  play  of  Hamlet  in  earlier  pages. 

^  This  is  an  allusion  to  James'  Scotch  farm  before  he  came  to  his 
English  farm  or  throne. 

^  Touching  this  use  of  the  word  "  farm"  by  Swift,  we  from  De- 
foe's Jure  Divino,  Book  3.  p.  17,  quote  as  follows  : 

"  If  kings  may  ravish,  plunder,  and  destroy, 
Oppress  the  world,  and  all  their  wealth  enjoy  ; 
May  harass  nations,  with  their  breath  may  kill, 
And  limit  human  life  by  human  will  ; 
Then  nations  were  for  misery  prepared, 
And  God  gave  kings  the  world  for  their  reward  ; 
Kings  were  the  general  farmers  of  the  land. 
Mankind  their  cattle, 

Made  for  their  command  ; 
Mere  blasts  of  burden,  couchant  and  supprest, 
Whom  God,  the  mighty  landlord,  made  in  jest ; 
Deliver'd  with  possession  of  the  farm. 
And  he  that  quite  destroys  them  does  no  harm  ; 
Tiiey're  only  bound  by  tenor  of  the  lease, 
To  leave  it  peopled  at  their  own  decease." 

"•  Here  we  again  have  Bacon's  words  "  salve"  or  "  plaster."  See 
pp.  31,  114  and  327. 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRliqTH.  5G9 

Bacon,  as  Martin,  represents  the  Church,  we  think,  and 
is  trying  to  work  ont  methods  for  it  and  for  philosophy 
through  these  elements— to  wit,  through  James  and  Buck- 
ingham. 

We  turn  now  to  Section  4,  which  opens  thus  :  "  I  have 
now,  with  much  pains  and  study,  conducted  the  reader  to 
a  period  where  he  must  expect  to  hear  of  great  revolu- 
tions. For  no  sooner  had  our  learned  brother,  so  often 
mentioned,  got  a  warm  house  of  his  own  over  his  head 
than  he  began  to  look  big  and  to  take  mightily  upon 
him  ;  insomuch  that,  unless  the  gentle  reader,  out  of  his 
great  candour,  will  please  a  little  to  exalt  his  idea,  I  am 
afraid  he  will  henceforth  hardly  know  the  hero  of  the 
play  when  he  happens  to  meet  him  ;  his  part,  his  dress, 
and  his  mien  being  so  much  altered." 

On  the  next  page,  p.  80,  we  quote  thus  :  "  I  hope, 
when  this  treatise. of  mine  shall  be  translated  into  foreign 
languages  (as  I  may  without  vanity  afitirm  that  the  labour 
of  collecting,  the  faithfulness  in  recounting,  and  the  great 
usefulness  of  the  matter  to  the  public,  will  amply  deserve 
that  justice),  that  the  worthy  members  of  the  several  acad- 
emies abroad,  especially  those  of  France  and  Italy,  will 
favorably  accept  these  humble  offers  for  the  advancement 
of  universal  knowledge.  I  do  also  advertise  the  most  rev- 
erend fathers,  the  Eastern  missionaries,  that  I  have,, 
purely,  for  their  sakes,  made  use  of  such  words  and 
phrases  as  will  best  admit  an  easy  turn  into  any  of  the 
Oriental  languages,  especially  the  Chinese.  And  so  1  pro- 
ceed with  great  content  of  mind,  upon  reflecting  how 
much  emolument  this  whole  globe  of  the  earth  is  likely  to 
reap  by  my  labours."  ' 

Lord  Peter,  in  order  now  to  support  a  grandeur  which 
he  was  not  born  to,  turns  projector,  concerning  the  chief 
of  which  projects  we  from  p.  80  quote  as  follows  :  "  The 
first  undertaking  of  lord  Peter  was  to  purchase  a  large 
continent,  lately  said  to  have  been  discovered  in  terra 
australis  incognita.''     This  tract  of  land  he  bought  at  a 

•  Bacon  was  ever  desirous,  as  may  be  seen  from  earlier  pu^es,  tliat 
his  works  might  be  turned  into  foreign  languages,  fearing  some  day 
a  bankruptcy  of  books.     See  p.  106,  and  set;  pp.  73  and  75. 

'  See  the  Britdiuiica  article  on  Australia.  "  Terra  Australis  incog- 
nita" is  mentioned  as  a  possible  site  for  the  New  Athmtis,  as  will 
appear  in  our  quotation  from  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  issued  in 
1G31,  p.  31.     And  see  lliu  expression  in  the  Defoe  article,  p.  44. 


570  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

very  great  pennyworth  from  the  discoverers  themselves 
(though  some  pretended  to  doubt  whether  they  had  ever 
been  there),  and  then  retailed  it  into  several  cantons  to 
certain  dealers,  who  carried  over  colonies,  but  were  all 
shipwrecked  in  the  voyage.  Upon  which  lord  Peter  sold 
the  said  continent  to  other  customers  again,  and  again, 
and  again,  and  again,  with  the  same  success." 

We  now,  in  connection  with  Bacon's  proposal  to  James 
and  his  Parliament  for  revenue,  and  to  be  attained  through 
reformed  criminals,  true  j)enitents,  quote  from  p.  84 
another  of  these  projects. 

"  I  must  needs  mention  one  more  of  lord  Peter's  proj- 
ects, which  was  very  extraordinary,  and  discovered  him 
to  be  master  of  a  high  reach  and  profound  invention. 
Wlienever  it  happened  that  any  rogue  of  Newgate  was 
condemned  to  be  hanged,  Peter  would  offer  him  a  pardon 
for  a  certain  sum  of  money  ;  which,  when  the  poor  caitiff 
had  made  all  shifts  to  scrape  up  and  send,  his  lordship 
would  return  a  piece  of  paper  in  this  form  : — 

"  '  To  all  mayors,  sheriffs,  jailors,  constables,  bailiffs, 
hangmen,  etc.  Whereas  we  are  informed  that  A.  B.  re- 
mains in  the  hands  of  you,  or  some  of  you,  under  the 
sentence  of  death.  We  will  and  command  you,  upon  sight 
hereof,  to  let  the  said  prisoner  depart  to  his  own  habita- 
tion, whether  he  stands  condemned  for  murder,  sodomy, 
rape,  sacrilege,  incest,  treason,  blasphemy,  etc.,  for  whicli 
this  shall  be  your  sufficient  warrant  ;  and  if  you  fail 
hereof,  Gr— d — mn  you  and  yours  to  all  eternity.  And  so 
we  bid  you  heartily  farewell. 

"  '  Your  most  humble 

"  '  Man's  man,' 

"  '  Emperor  Peter.' 

•As  to  this  most  unusual  expression  "man's  man,"  we  from 
Bacon  quote  as  follows  :  "  This  in  all  humbleness,  according  to  my 
vowed  care  and  fidelity,  being  no  man's  man  but  your  Majesty's, 
I  present,  leave,  and  submit  to  your  Majesty's  better  judgment," 
etc.  (Bacon's  Letters,  vol.  v.,  p.  173.)  What  will  the  would-be 
doubting  reader  say  as  to  this  ?  And,  again,  Promus,  42.  Man  is 
man's  god.  In  the  Anatomy  of  Abuses,  p.  2,  we  have  :  "  But  he 
that  knoweth  all  things  (which  thing  none  doth  but  God  alone)  he  is 
(as  it  were)  a  God  among  men."  Ba(;()U  says  :  "  A  King  is  a  mortal 
god  on  earth."  And  in  Pericles,  Act  i.,  sc.  1,  p.  291,  we  have: 
"  Kings  are  earth's  gods,"  etc.     And  in  Actiii.,  sc.  2,  p.  335,  we  have  : 

"  I  held  it  ever. 
Virtue  aud  cunning  were  endowments  greater 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  571 

"The  wretches,  trusting  to  this,  lost  their  lives  and 
money  too. 

"  I  desire  of  those  whom  the  learned  among  posterity 
will  appoint  for  commentators  upon  this  elaborate  treatise, 
that  they  will  proceed  with  great  caution  upon  certain 
dark  points,  wherein  all  who  are  not  vere  adepti  may  be 
in  danger  to  form  rash  and  hasty  conclusions,  especially 
in  some  mysterious  paragraphs,  where  certain  arcana  are 
joined  for  larevity's  sake,  which  in  the  operation  must  be 
divided.  And  I  am  certain  that  future  sons  of  art  will 
return  large  thanks  to  my  memory  for  so  grateful  an 
innnendo." 

Concerning  some  of  James'  methods,  including  his  habit 
of  swearing,  we  from  pp.  57  and  58  of  Weldon's  "  Court 
and  Character  of  King  James"  quote  as  follows  : 

"  By  his  frequenting  Sermons  he  appeared  Eeligious  ; 
yet  his  Tuesday  Sermons  if  you  will  believe  his  own 
Countrymen,  that  lived  in  those  times  when  they  were 
erected*  and  well  understood  the  cause  of  erecting  them 
were  dedicated  to  a  strange  piece  of  devotion.* 

"  He  would  make  a  great  deal  too  bold  with  God  in  liis 
passion,  both  in  cursing  and  swearing,  and  one  strain 
higher,  verging  on  blasphemy  ;  But  would  in  his  better 
temper  say,  he  hoped  God  would  not  impute  them  as  sins, 
and  lay  them  to  his  charge,  seeing  they  proceeded  from 

Than  nobleness  and  riches  :  careless  heirs 

May  the  two  latter  darken  and  expend  ; 

But  immortality  attends  the  former, 

Making  a  man  a  god.     'Tis  known,  I  ever 

Have  studied  physic,  through  which  secret  art, 

By  turning  o'er  authorities,  I  have 

(Together  with  my  practice)  made  familiar 

To  me  and  to  my  aid  the  blest  infusions 

That  dwell  in  vegetives,  in  metals,  stones  ; 

And  I  can  speak  of  the  disturbances 

That  nature  works,  and  of  her  cures  ;  which  give  me 

A  more  content  in  course  of  true  delight 

Than  to  be  thirsty  after  tottering  honour, 

Or  tie  my  treasure  up  in  silken  bags, 

To  please  the  fool  and  death." 

"Virtue  and  cunning, "  or  honesty  and  policy,  were  the  qualities 
most  valued  by  Bacon.  See  sheepliook,  p.  78.  Let  this  play  be  looked 
at  with  care. 

•  Here  is  an  allusion,  we  think,  to  what  in  the  Defoe  articles  is 
called  the  "  Hell-Fire  Club,"  or  "the  sweet  singers  of  Israel." 


572  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

passion  :  He  had  need  of  great  assurance,  rather  than 
hopes,  that  wouhi  make  daily  so  bold  with  God. 

"  He  was  so  crafty  and  cunning  in  petty  things,  as  the 
circumventing  any  great  man,  the  change  of  a  Favorite, 
insomuch  as  a  very  wise  man  was  wont  to  say,  he  believed 
him  the  wisest  fool  in  Christendom,  meaning  him  wise  in 
small  things,  but  a  fool  in  weighty  affairs. 

"  He  ever  desired  to  prefer  mean  men  in  great  places, 
that  when  he  turned  them  out  again,  they  should  have  no 
friend  to  bandy  with  them  :  And  besides,  they  were  so 
hated  by  being  raised  from  a  mean  estate,  to  over-top  all 
men,  that  every  one  held  it  a  pretty  recreation  to  have 
them  often  turned  out.  There  was  in  this  King's  time, 
at  one  instant  living,  two  Treasurers,  three  Secretaries, 
two  Lord  Keepers,  two  Admirals,  three  Lord  Chief  Jus- 
tices, yet  but  one  in  play,  therefore  this  King  had  a  pretty 
faculty  in  putting  out  and  in  :  By  this  you  may  perceive 
in  what  his  wisdom  consisted,  but  in  great  and  weighty 
affairs,  even  at  his  wits'  end. 

"  He  had  a  trick  to  cozen  himself  with  bargains  under- 
hand, by  taking  1000/.  or  10,000/.  as  a  bribe,  when  his 
Counsel  was  treating  with  his  Customers  to  raise  them  to 
so  much  more  yearly,  this  went  into  his  Privy  purse  ; 
wherein  he  thought  he  had  over- reached  the  Lords,  but 
cozened  himself  ;  but  would  as  easily  break  the  bargain 
upon  the  next  offer,  saying,  he  was  mistaken  and  de- 
ceived, and  therefore  no  reason  he  should  keep  the  bar- 
gain ;  this  was  often  the  case  with  the  Farmers  of  the 
Customs  ;  He  was  infinitely  inclined  to  prayer,  but  more 
out  of  fear  than  conscience,  and  this  was  the  greatest 
blemish  this  King  had  through  all  his  Reign,  otherwise 
he  might  have  been  ranked  with  the  very  best  of  our 
Kings,  yet  sometimes  would  he  show  pretty  flashes  which 
might  easily  be  discerned  to  be  forced,  not  natural  ;  And 
being  forced,  could  have  wished,  rather,  it  would  have  re- 
coiled back  to  himself,  then  carried  to  that  King  it  had 
concerned,  lest  he  might  have  been  put  to  the  trial,  to 
maintain  his  seeming  valour." 

Again,  Section  5  of  the  article  concerns  critics,  and  opens 
thus  :  "  We'  whom  the  world  is  pleased  to  honour  with 

'  The  word  "  we"  liere  alludes,  we  judge,  to  the  characters  or 
parts  which  Bacou  prepared  to  be  played  upon  the  stage  of  the 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  573 

the  title  of  modern  authors,  should  never  have  been  able 
to  compass  our  great  design  of  an  everlasting  remem- 
brance and  never  dying  fame,  if  our  endeavours  hadnot 
been  so  highly  serviceable  to  the  general  good  of  mankind. 
This,  0  universe  !  is  the  adventurous  attempt  of  me  thy 
secretary  ;' 

"  '  — Quern  vis  perferre  laborem 

Suaclet,  et  iuducit  noctes  vigilare  serenas.' 

"  To  this  end  I  have  some  time  since,  with  a  vrorld  of 
pains  and  art,  dissected  the  carcass  of  human  nature,  and 
read  many  useful  lectures  upon  the  several  parts,  both 
containing  and  contained  :  till  at  last  it  smelt  so  strong 
I  could  preserve  it  no  longer.  Upon  which  I  have  been 
at  a  great  expense  to  fit  up  all  the  bones  with  exact  con- 
texture and  in  due  symmetry  ;  so  that  I  am  ready  to  show 
a  very  complete  anatomy  thereof  to  all  curious  gentlemen 
and  others." 

Bacon's  babe  we  have  already  called  under  review  in 
connection  with  the  play  of  Hamlet,  and  we  purpose  soon 
alike  review  as  to  the  members  and  structure  of  his  here  al- 
luded-to  jointed  baby  of  the  Defoe  period.    Seep.  92,  note  4. 

The  subject  of  the  Chuj-ch  is  again  taken  up  in  Section 
G.  Let  it  be  here  investigated  as  to  whether  some  of  these 
later  sections  do  not  concern  the  Church  prior  to  the 
Reformation,  and  through  fear  of  detection  transposed  in 
order  to  break  relations.  This  would  not  touch  the  ques- 
tion of  the  author's  fears,  however,  as  by  placing  Bucking- 
ham and  the  King  in  a  couplet,  as  in  the  play  of  The  Tem- 
pest, but  concerns  only  those  issuing  the  work. 

At  p.  571  we  have  seen  that  King  James  was  interested 

Defoe  period.  This  was  "  the  adventurous  attempt  of  me"— Bacon 
— the  secretary.  Further  on  in  the  quotation  he  represents  the 
anatomy  of  the  work  to  be  complete  and  ready  for  exliibition. 

'  Touching  the  expression  "  me  thy  secretary,"  we  quote  the  open- 
ing words  of  ch.  2,  Book  8  of  tli'e  De  Augmentis  thus:  "The 
Doctrine  concerning  Negotiation  is  divided  into  the  Doctrine  con- 
cerning Scattered  Occasions,  and  the  Doctrine  concerning  Advancement 
in  Life ;  whereof  the  one  comprises  all  variety  of  business,  and  is 
as  it  were  the  secretary  of  the  whole  department  of  life  ;  the  other 
merely  selects  and  suggests  such  things  as  relate  to  the  improve- 
ment of  a  man's  own  fortune,  and  may  serve  each  man  for  a  private 
notebook  or  register  of  his  own  affairs." 

And  note  the  character  "  The  Lord  Secretary"  in  Bunyau's  Holy 
War. 


574  THREAD   OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

in  some  strange  views.  We  have  also  mentioned  a  fear 
existing  as  to  a  union  between  Peter  and  a  branch  of 
Jack's  disciples  known  as  the  ^Eolists. 

Section  6  as  to  this  Sect,  ends  thus  :  "  Sometimes 
they  would  call  him  Jack  the  bold,  sometimes,  Jack  with 
a  lantern  ;  sometimes,  Dutch  Jack  ;  sometimes,  French 
Hugh  ;  sometimes,  Tom  the  beggar  ;  and  sometimes, 
Knocking  Jack  of  the  North.  And  it  was  under  one,  or 
some,  or  all  of  these  appellations,  which  I  leave  the  learned 
reader  to  determine,  that  he  has  given  rise  to  the  most 
illustrious  and  epidemic  sect  of  delists  ;  who,  with  hon- 
orable commemoration,  do  still  acknowledge  the  renowned 
JACK  for  their  author  and  founder.  Of  whose  original, 
as  well  as  principles,  I  am  now  advancing  to  gratify  the 
world  with  a  very  particular  account. 

"  '  — Melleo  contingens  cuncta  lepore.'  " 

The  food  which  Bacon,  like  the  bee,  had  prepared  out 
of  ancient  and  modern  learning  to  sustain  his  mentioned 
anatomy  is  made  the  subject  of  Section  7,  and  which 
should  be  read  in  full.  See  Bacon's  statement  quoted 
in  our  preface  to  this  work. 

Bacon's  allusions  to  ^olus  and  his  views  upon  the  winds, 
already  considered,  pp.  47-52,  we  would  now  call  distinctly 
into  relation  with  Section  8  of  this  article,  and  which 
opens  thus  : 

"  The  learned  ^olists  maintain  the  original  cause  of 
all  things  to  be  wind,  from  which  principle  this  whole 
universe  was  at  first  produced,  and  into  which  it  must  at 
last  be  resolved  ;  that  the  same  breath  which  had  kindled 
and  blew  up  the  flame  of  nature  should  one  day  blow  it 
out—' 

"  '  Quod  procul  a  nobis  flectat  fortuna  gubernans.' 

'  la  Defoe's  Jure  Divino,  p.  3,  note  9,  we  have  :  "  ^olus,  fancied 
to  be  the  son  of  Jupiter,  by  Acesta,  daughter  of  Hippota  ;  for  most 
of  these  gods  and  goddesses  were  but  Jupiter's  bastards.  The  truth 
is,  this  ^olus  was  a  very  skilful  astronomer,  and  particularly  studi- 
ous about  the  nature  of  the  winds  ;  and  because  from  the  clouds  and 
vapours  of  the  ^olian  Islands,  where  this  philosopher  lived,  he 
foretold  storms  and  tempests  a  great  while  before  thej^  came,  the 
ignorant  people  fancied  them  under  his  power,  and  that  he  could 
raise  them  or  still  them  when  he  pleased  :  and  from  hence  he  was 
called  king  of  the  winds,  and  so,  after  his  death,  agod  of  the  winds." 
And  in  the  Anatomy  of  Abuses,  p.  40,  we  have  :  "  But  if  ^olus 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  575 

"  This  is  what  the  adepti  understand  by  their  anima 
mundi ;  that  is  to  say,  the  spirit,  or  breath,  or  wind  of 
the  world  ;  for,  examine  the  whole  system  by  the  particu- 
lars of  nature,  and  you  will  find  it  not  to  be  disputed. 
For  whether  you  please  to  C2k\\i\ie  forma  inf or maiis  oi  man 
by  the  name  of  spiritiis,  animiis,  afflatus,  ov  anima  ;  what 
are  all  these  but  several  aj^pellations  for  wind,  which  is 
the  ruling  element  in  every  compound,  and  into  which 
they  all  resolve  upon  their  corruption  ?  Farther,  what  is 
life  itself  but,  as  it  is  commonly  called,  the  breath  of  our 
nostrils?  Whence  it  is  very  justly  observed  by  naturalists 
that  wind  still  continues  of  great  emolument  in  certain 
mysteries  not  to  be  named,  giving  occasion  for  these  happy 
epithets  of  turgidus  and  mjlatus,  applied  either  to  the 
emit  tent  or  recipient  organs. 

"  By  what  I  have  gathered  out  of  ancient  records,  I  find 
the  compass  of  their  doctrine  took  in  two-and-thirty 
points,  wherein  it  would  be  tedioiis  to  be  very  particular. 
However,  a  few  of  their  most  important  precepts,  deduci- 
ble  from  it,  are  by  no  means  to  be  omitted  ;  among  which 
the  following  maxim  was  of  much  weight  ;  that  since 
wind  had  the  master  share,  as  well  as  operation,  in  every 
compound,  by  consequence,  those  beings  must  be  of  chief 
excellence  wherein  that  primordiuvn  appears  most  promi- 
nently to  abound  ;  and  therefore  man  is  in  the  highest 
perfection  of  all  created  things,  as  having  by  the  great 
bounty  of  philosophers,  been  endued  with  three  distinct 
animas  or  winds,  to  which  the  sage  /Eolists,  with  much 
liberality,  have  added  a  fourth,  of  equal  necessity  as  well 
as  ornament  with  the  other  three  ;  by  this  quartum 
principium  taking  in  the  four  corners  of  the  world  ; 
which  gavcdoccasion  to  that  renowned  cahalist,  Bumhastus, 
[one  of  the  names  of  Paracelsus],  of  placing  the  body  of  a 
man  in  due  position  to  the  four  cardinal  points."  See 
quotation  from  Addison,  p.  458.  As  to  Paracelsus,  see 
Bacon's  Phil.  Works,  vol.  iii.,  p,  486. 

with  his  blasts,  or  Neptune  with  his  storms,  chance  to  hit  upon  the 
crazy  barks  of  their  bruised  ruffs,  then  they  go  flip-iiop  in  tlie  wind 
like  rags  that  flew  abroad  lying  upon  their  shoulders  like  the  dish- 
cloth of  a  slut.  But  wot  you  what?  the  devil,  as  he,  in  the  fulness 
of  his  malice,  first  invented  these  ruffs,  so  hath  he  now  found  out 
also  two  great  pillars  to  bear  up  and  maintain  this  his  kingdom  of 
pride  withal  (for  the  devil  is  king  and  prince  over  all  the  children  of 
pride). ' 


576  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

And  in  the  same  section,  p.  117,  we  have  : 
"  Thus  in  the  choice  of  a  devil  it  has  been  the  usual 
method  of  mankind  to  single  out  some  being,  either  in 
act  or  in  vision,  which  was  in  most  antipathy  to  the  god 
they  had  framed.  Thus  also  the  sect  of  delists  possessed 
themselves  with  a  dread  and  horror  and  hatred  of  two 
malignant  natures,  betwixt  whom  and  the  deities  they 
adored  perpetual  enmity  was  established.  The  first  of 
these  was  the  chameleon,^  sworn  foe  to  inspiration,  who  in 
scorn  devoured  large  influences  of  their  gods,  without 
refunding  the  smallest  blast  by  eructation.  The  other  was 
a  huge  terrible  monster  called  Moulinavent,  who.  with 
four  strong  arms,  waged  eternal  battle  with  all  their 
divinities,  dexterously  turning  to  avoid  their  blows,  and 
repay  them  with  interest. 

"  Thus  furnished  and  set  out  with  gods,  as  well  as 
devils,  was  the  renowned  sect  of  ^'Eolists,  w^hich  makes  at 
this  day  so  illustrious  a  figure  in  the  world,  and  wliereof 
that  polite  nation  of  Laplanders^  are,  beyond  all  doubt,  a 
most  authentic  branch  ;  of  whom  I  therefore  cannot,  with- 
out injustice,  here  omit  to  make  honorable  mention  ;  since 
they  appear  to  be  so  closely  allied  in  point  of  interest,  as 
well  as  inclinations,  with  their  brother  zEolists  among  us, 
as  not  only  to  buy  their  winds  by  wholesale  from  the  same 
merchants,^  but  also  to  retail  them  after  the  same  rate  and 
method,  and  to  customers  much  alike. 


'  Proraus,  794.  Chameleon,  Proteus,  Euripus.  (Chameleon,  Eras. 
Ad.,  418,  709  ;  Proteus,  413,  709  ;  Euripus,  812.)  In  the  Two  Gen- 
tlemen of  Verona,  Act  ii.,  sc.  2,  p.  139,  we  have  : 

"  Speed.  Ay,  but  hearken,  su- :  though  the  chameleon  Love  can  feed 
on  the  air,  I  am  one  that  am  nourish 'd  by  my  victuals,  and  would 
fain  have  meat  :  O  !  be  not  lliie  your  mistress  ;  be  moved,  be 
moved." 

In  Hamlet,  Act  iii.,  sc.  2,  p.  286,  we  have  : 

"  King.  How  fares  our  cousin  Hamlet  ? 
Ilaiu.  Excellent,  i'  faith  ;  of  the  chameleon's'dish.    I  eat  the  air, 
promise- cramm'd.     You  cannot  feed  capons  so."     Sec  p.  204. 

The  chameleon  and  its  habits  are  described  in  Sub.  360  of  Bacon's 
Natural  History.     And  see  p.  35. 

^  See  the  Laplander's  gifts  described  in  Defoe's  "  Duncan  Camp- 
bell." 

^  Bacon  applies  tlie  word  merchants  to  the  winds,  as  we  have  seen, 
and  speaks  of  their  being  "  traders  in  vapours."     See  p.  49,  note  3. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  577 

"  Now,  whether  this  system  here  delivered  was  wholly 
compiled  by  Jack,  or,  as  some  writers  believe,  rather 
copied,  from  the  original  at  Delphos,  with  certain  addi- 
tions and  emendations,  suited  to  the  times  and[_circum- 
stances,  I  shall  not  absolutely  determine.  This  I  may 
altirm,  that  Jack  gave  it  at  least  a  new  turn,  and  formed 
it  into  the  same  dress  and  model  .as  it  lies  deduced  by 
m-e."  ' 

We  proceed  next  to  Section  9,  which  alludes,  we  think, 
to  the  troubles  of  The  Tempest.  We  regard  it  a  most 
biting  satire  by  Bacon  upon  himself  in  thinking  to  be  able 
to  compass  his  religious  and  philosophic  methods  through 
such  a  king  as  he  found  James  to  be.  Beginning  at  p. 
13G,  we  quote  the  following  : 

"  But  when  a  man's  fancy  gets  astride  on  his  reason  ; 
when  imagination  is  at  cuffs  witli  the  senses  ;  and  convmon 
understanding,  as  well  as  common  sense,  is  kicked  out  of 
doors  ;  the  first  proselyte  he  makes  is  himself  ;  and  when 
that  is  once  compassed  the  difficulty  is  not  so  great  in 
bringing  over  others  ;  a  strong  delusion  always  operating 
from  without  as  vigorously  as  from  witliin.  For  cant  and 
vision  are  to  the  ear  and  the  eye  the  same  tliat  tickling 
is  to  the  touch.  Those  entertainments  and  pleasures  we 
most  value  in  life  are  such  as  dujie  and  play  the  wag  with 
the  senses.  For  if  we  take  an  examination  of  what  is 
generally  understood  by  happiness,  as  it  has  respect  either 
to  the  understanHing  or  the  senses,  we  shall  tind  all  its 
properties  and  adjuncts  will  herd  under  this  short  defini- 
tion, that  it  is  a  perpetual  possession  of  being  well  deceived. 
And  first,  with  relation  to  the  mind  or  understanding,  it 
is  manifest  what  mighty  advantages  fiction  has  over  truth  ; 
and  the  reason  is  just  at  our  elbow,  because  imagination 
can  build  nobler  scenes,  and  produce  more  wonderful  revo- 
lutions, than  fortune  or  nature  will  be  at  the  expense  to 
furnish.  Nor  is  mankind  so  much  to  blame  in  his  choice 
thus  determining  him,  if  we  consider  that  the  debate 
merely  lies  between  things  past  and  things  conceived  : 
and  so  the  question  is  only  this  ;  whether  things  that  have 
place  in  the  imagination  may  not  as  properly  be  said  to 

*  See  the  Britanniea  article  on  John  Calvin,  of  whom  Bacon  was 
doubtless  in  early  years  a  great  student.  He  was  three  years  of  age 
at  Calvin's  death.  Calviu  at  one  time  had  much  interest  in  Ochino, 
whose  views  have  passed  somewhat  under  review.     See  p.  125. 

19 


578  THKEAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

exist  as  those  that  are  seated  in  the  memory  ;  which  may 
be  justly  held  in  the  atfirmative;,  and  very  much  to  the 
advantage  of  the  former,  since  this  is  acknowledged  to  be 
the  womb  of  things,  and  the  other  allowed  to  be  no  more 
than  the  grave.'  Again,  if  we  take  this  definition  of  hap- 
piness, and  examine  it  with  reference  to  the  senses,  it  will 
be  acknowledged  wonderfully  adapt.  How  fading  and 
insipid  do  all  objects  accost  us  that  are  not  conveyed  in 
the  vehicle  of  delusion  !  how  shrunk  is  everything  as  it 
appears  in  the  glass  of  nature  I  so  that  if  it  were  not  for 
the  assistance  of  artificial  mediums,  false  lights,  refracted 
angles,  varnish  and  tinsel,  there  would  be  a  mighty  level 
in  the  felicity  of  enjoyments  of  mortal  men.  If  this  were 
seriously  considered  by  the  world,  as  I  have  a  certain 
reason  to  suspect  it  hardly  will,  men  would  no  longer 
reckon  among  their  high  points  of  wisdom  the  art  of  ex- 
posing weak  sides  and  publishing  infirmities  ;  an  employ- 
ment, in  my  opinion,  neither  better  nor  worse  than  that 
of  unmasking,  which,  I  think,  has  never  been  allowed  fair 
usage  either  in  the  world  or  in  the  playhouse. 

"  In  the  proportion  that  credulity  is  a  more  peaceful 
possession  of  the  mind  than  curiosity,  so  far  preferable  is 
that  wisdom  which  converses  about  the  surface  to  that 
pretended  philosophy  which  enters  into  the  depths  of 
things,  and  then  comes  gravely  back  with  informations 
and  discoveries  that  in  the  inside  they  are  good  for  noth^ 
ing.  The  two  senses  to  which  all  objects  first  address 
themselves  are  the  sight  and  the  touch  ;  these  never  examine 
farther  than  the  colour,  the  shape,  the  size,  and  whatever 
other  qualities  dwell  or  are  drawn  by  art  upon  the  outward 
of  bodies  ;  and  then  comes  reason  officiously  with  tools 
for  cutting,  and  oiDcning,  and  mangling,  and  piercmg, 
offering  to  demonstrate  that  they  are  not  of  the  same  con- 
sistence quite  through.''  Now  I  take  all  this  to  be  the  last 
degree  of  perverting  nature  ;  one  of  whose  eternal  laws  it  is, 
to  put  her  best  furniture  forward.  And  therefore,  in 
order  to  save  the  charges  of  all  such  expensive  anatomy 

'  We  here  again  have  a  Baconian  use  of  the  word  "  womb,"  and 
as  applied  to  the  inuiyimilion.  That  which  is  born  in  the  imagi- 
nation is  entombed  in  memory   (pp.  83,  134,  258). 

"  Bacon  was  himself  this  great  anatomist,  in  the  plays,  the  Anatomy 
of  Abuses,  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  etc.,  and  the  world  had 
given  him  no  thauk«;^ 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  579 

for  the  time  to  come,  I  do  here  think  fit  to  inform  the 
reader  that  in  such  conclusions  as  these  reason  is  certainly 
in  the  right ;  and  that,  in  most  corporeal  things  which 
have  fallen  under  my  cognizance,  the  outside  has  been, 
infinitely  preferable  to  the  in  :  wherefore  I  have  been 
farther  convinced  from  some  late  exiieriments.  Last  week 
I  saw  a  woman  flayed,  and  you  will  hardly  believe  how 
much  it  altered  her  person  for  the  worse.  Yesterday  I 
ordered  the  carcass  of  a  beau  to  be  stripped  in  my  pres- 
ence ;  when  we  were  all  amazed  to  find  so  many  unsus- 
pected faults  under  one  suit  of  clothes.  Then  I  laid 
open  his  brain,  his  heart,  and  his  sjDleen  :  but  I  plainly 
perceived  at  every  operation,  that  the  farther  we  proceeded 
we  found  the  defects  increase  upon  us  in  number  and 
bulk  :  from  all  which,  I  Justly  formed  this  conclusion  to 
myself,  that  whatever  philosopher  or  projector  can  find 
out  an  art  to  solder  and  patch  up  the  flaws  and  imperfec- 
tions of  nature  will  deserve  much  better  of  mankind,  and 
teach  us  a  more  useful  science,  than  that  so  much  in  pres- 
ent esteem,  of  widening  and  exposing  them,  like  him  who 
held  anatomy  to  be  the  ultimate  end  of  physic.  And  he 
whose  fortunes  and  dispositions  have  placed  him  in  a  con- 
venient station  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  this  noble  art  ;  he 
that  can  with  Epicurus,  content  his  ideas  with  the  films 
and  images  that  fly  off  upon  his  senses  from  the  superScies 
of.  things  ;  such  a  man,  truly  wise,  creams  off  nature, 
leaving  the  sour  and  the  dregs  for  philosophy  and  reason 
to  lap  up.  This  is  the  sublime  and  refined  point  of 
felicity,  called  the  possession  of  being  well  deceived  ;  the 
serene,  peaceful  state  of  being  a  fool  among  knaves  " 

Let  the  word  "  feather"  as  used  in  this  section  be 
called  into  relation  with  Bacon's  already  quoted  notes, 
and  wherein  he  says  he  is  charged  with  having  a  feather 
in  his  head.  Note  also  the  sentence  "  Now,  is  the  reader 
exceedingly  curious  to  learn  whence  this  vapour  took  its 
rise,  which  had  so  long  set  the  nation  ht  a  gaze  ?  what 
secret  wheel,  what  hidden  spring,  could  put  into  motion 
so  wonderful  an  engine  .p"  Also  :  "  For  to  speak  a  bold 
truth,  it  is  a  fatal  miscarriage  so  ill  to  order  affairs  as  to 
pass  for  a  fool  in  one  company,  when  in  another  you  might 
be  treated  as  a  philosopher.  Which  I  desire  some  certain 
gentlemen  of  my  acquaintance  to  lay  np  in  their  hearts  as 
a  very  seasonable  innuendo. ' ' 


580  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

Note  also  in  this  section  the  Baconian  use  of  snch 
words  as  distemper,  madness,  kiiKlles,  vapour,  middle 
region,  mist,  comely,  face  of  nature,  various  original,  uni- 
versal monarchy,  adust, ^  for  that  time,  fortuitous  con- 
course, all  men's  opinions,^  tie,  miscarriage,  fitter,  nar- 
rowly, "  pattern  of  human  learning,"  "  will  herd  under 
that  definition,"  "  hatcher  and  breeder  of  business." 
Note  in  the  article  concerning  the  king  or  prince  the  ex- 
pression "  the  reformed  religion,  which  had  once  been  his 
own,"  also  the  allusion  to  Bacon's  Holy  War  in  the  words, 
"  Some  again,  of  a  deeper  sagacity,  sent  him  into  Asia  to 
subdue  the  Turk  and  recover  Palestine." 

But  it  may  be  asked,  What  is  to  be  attained  by  showing 
the  authorship  of  this  literature  ?  This  :  The  relations  once 
known  which  gave  it  birth,  light  it  as  an  entire  structure, 
and  show  it  the  greatest  literary  carcass  ever  framed  by 
mortal  man.  It  will  also  be  found  to  contain  material 
which  will  "  set  the  ants,"  the  race,  "  anew  at  Avork." 

We  turn  next  to  Section  10  and  quote  as  follows  : 

"  In  til©  mean  time  I  do  here  give  this  public  notice, 
that  my  resolutions  are  to  circumscribe  within  this  dis- 
course the  whole  stock  of  matter  I  have  been  so  many 
years  providinrg.  Since  my  vein  is  once  opened,  I  am  con- 
tent to  exhaust  it  all  at  a  running,  for  the  peculiar  advan- 
tage of  my  dear  country,  and  for  the  universal  benefit  of 
mankind.  Therefore,  hospitably  considering  the  number 
of  my  guests,  they  shall  have  my  whole  entertainment  at 
a  meal  ;  and  I  scorn  to  set  up  the  leavings  in  the  cupboard. 
What  the  guests  cannot  eat  may  be  given  to  the  poor  ;  and 
the  dogs  under  the  table  may  gnaw  the  bones.  This  I 
understand  for  a  more  generous  proceeding  than  to  turn 


'  This  word  will  be  found  used  several  times  by  Bacon  in  his 
Natural  History,  and  in  his  essay  entitled  "  Of  Ambition"  he  says  : 
"But  if  it  be  stopped,  afid  cannot  have  its  way,  it  becomes  adust 
and  thereby  malign  and  venomous." 

^  Throuo-hout  these  entire  writings  this  form  of  expression,  "  men's 
opinions,"  "  men's  minds,"  etc.,  is  of  universal  use,  and  for  which 
Addison  in  a  fyot-note  to  p.  171  of  vol.  iii.  is  thus  criticised. 
"  Men's  inindsJ]  Men's  for  the  genitive  plural  of  7naii,  is  not  allow- 
able.— We  say,  a  man's  mind,  but  we  can  only  say,  the  minds  of.  men, 
as  Mr.  Addison  should  have  done  here."  These  works  are  one  in 
their  errors  as  in  every  other  sense.  And  this  though  Mr.  Addison's 
literary  period  was  one  hundred  years  later. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  581 

the  company's  stomacli,  by  inviting  them  again  to-morrow 
to  a  scurvy  meal  of  scraps.'^ 

"  If  the  reader  fairly  considers  the  strength  of  what  I 
have  advanced  in  the  foregoing  section,  I  am  convinced  it 
will  produce  a  wonderful  revolution  in  his  notions  and 
opinions  ;  and  he  will  be  abundantly  better  prepared  to 
receive  and  to  relish  the  concluding  part  of  this  miraculous 
treatise.  Readers  may  be  divided  into  three  classes — the 
suiDerficial,  the  ignorant,  and  the  learned  :  and  I  have  with 
much  felicity  fitted  my  pen  to  the  genius  and  advantage  of 
each.  The  superficial  reader  will  be  strangely  provoked  to 
laughter  ;  which  clears  the  breast  and  lungs,  is  sovereign 
against  the  spleen,  and  the  most  innocent  of  all  diuretics. 
The  ignorant  reader,  between  whom  and  the  former  the 
distinction  is  extremely  nice,  Avill  find  himself  disposed  to 
stare  ;  which  is  an  admirable  remedy  for  ill  eyes,  serves  to 
raise  and  enliven  the  spirits,  and  wonderfully  helps  perspi- 
ration. But  the  reader  truly  learned,  chiefly  for  whose 
benefit  I  wake  when  others  sleep,  and  sleep  when  others 
wake,  will  here  find  sufficient  matter  to  employ  his  specu- 
lations for  the  rest  of  his  life.  It  were  much  to  be  wished, 
and  I  do  here  humbly  proj)ose  for  an  experiment,  tliat 
every  prince  in  Christendom  will  take  seven  of  the  deepest 
scliolars  in  his  dominions,  and  shut  them  up  close  for  seven 
years  in  seven  chambers^  witli  a  conmiand  to  write  seven 
ample  coinmentaries  on  this  comprehensive  discourse.     I 

'  As  to  literary  "  scraps,"  we  from  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  v., 
so.  1,  p.  433,  quote  as  follows  : 

"  IIol.  Most  military  sir,  salutation. 

Moth.  [7<?  Gost.'\  They  have  been  at  a  great  feast  of  languages, 
and  stolen  the  scraps. 

Cost.  O  !  they  have  lived  long  in  the  alms-basket  of  words.  I 
marvel  thy  master  hath  not  eaten  thee  for  a  word  ;  for  thou  art  not 
so  long  by  the  head  as  homorificabilitudinitatibus  :  thou  art  easier 
swallowed  than  a  flap-dragou. 

Moth.  Peace  !  the  peal  begins. 

Arm.  [To  Hoi.]  Monsieur,  are  you  not  letter'd  ? 

3Ioth.  Yes,  yes  ;  he  teaches  boys  the  horn -book  : 
What  is  a,  b,  spelt  backwards  with  a  horn  on  his  head  ?" 

Bacon  in  ch.  2  of  Book  6  of  the  De  Augmeutis,  and  which  concerns 
the  wisdom  of  transmission,  says  :  "  Lastly,  as  aphorisms  exhibit 
only  certain  scraps  and  fragments  of  the  sciences  they  carry  with 
them  an  invention  to  others  for  adding  and  lending  their  assistance, 
whereas  method  dresses  up  the  sciences  into  bodies,  and  make  men 
imagine  they  have  them  complete."     (Bohu  ed.,  p.  229.) 


582  TniiEAD  or  the  labyrinth. 

shall  venture  to  affirm  that,  whatever  difference  may  be 
found  in  their  several  conjectures,  they  will  be  all,  Avithout 
the  least  distortion,  manifestly  deducible  from  the  text. 
Meanwhile,  it  is  my  earnest  request  that  so  useful  an  under- 
taking may  be  entered  upon,  if  their  majesties  please,  with 
all  convenient  speed  ;  because  I  have  a  strong  inclination, 
before  I  leave  the  world,  to  taste  a  blessing  which  we 
mysterious  writers  can  seldom  reach  till  we  have  gotten 
into  our  graves  :  whether  it  is,  that  fame,  being  a  fruit 
grafted  on  the  body,  can  hardly  grow,  and  much  less  ripen, 
till  the  stock  is  in  the  earth  ;  or  whether  she  be  a  bird  of 
prey,  and  is  lured,  among  the  rest,  to  pursue  after  the 
scent  of  a  carcass  ;  or  whether  she  conceives  her  trumpet 
sounds  best  and  farthest  when  she  stands  on  a  tomb,  by 
the  advantage  of  a  rising  ground  and  the  echo  of  a  hollow 
vault. 

"  It  is  true,  indeed,  the  rejiublic  of  dark  authors,"  after 
they  once  found  out  this  excellent  expedient  of  dying,  have 
been  peculiarly  happy  in  the  variety  as  well  as  extent  of 
tlieir  reputation.  For  night  being  the  universal  mother  of 
things,^  wise  philosophers  hold  all  writings  to  be  fruitful 
in  the  proportion  that  they  are  dark  ;  and  therefore,  the 
true  illuminated  (that  is  to  say,  the  darkest  of  all)  have 
met  with  such  numberless  commentators,  whose  scholastic 
midwifery'  has  delivered  them  of  meanings  that  the  authors 
themselves  perhaps  never  conceived,  and  yet  may  very 
justly  be  allowed  the  lawful  parents  of  them  ;  the  words 
of  such  writers  being  like  seed,  which,  however  scattered 
at  random,  when  they  light  upon  a  fruitful  ground,  will 
multiply  far  beyond  either  the  hopes  or  imagination  of  the 
sower."  * 

'  Bacon  in  ch.  2  of  Book  6  of  the  De  Augmentis,  and  wliicli  con- 
cerns iLe  wisdom  of  transmission,  says  :  "  Tiiis  concealed  or  enig- 
matical metliod  was  itself  also  employed  by  the  ancients  with  pru- 
dence and  judgment,  but  is  of  late  dishonoured  by  many,  who  il«e 
it  as  a  false  light  to  set  off  their  counterfeit  wares.  The  design  of  it 
seems  to  have  been,  by  the  veil  of  tradition  to  keep  the  vulgar  from 
the  secrets  of  sciences,  and  to  admit  only  such  as  had,  by  the  help 
of  a  master,  attained  to  the  interpretation  of  dark  sayings,  or  were 
able,  by  the  strength  of  their  own  genius,  to  enter  within  the  veil." 
(Bohn  ed.,  p.  228.)     And  see  our  quotation  from  Addison,  p.  456. 

^  See  these  views,  p.  133. 

^  As  to  this  distinctive  use  of  the  word  "  midwife"  by  Swift,  see 
its  use  by  both  Bacon  and  Defoe  at  p.  20. 

■*  Bzicon  says  :  "  For  although  depth  of  secrecy  and  concealment 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  583 

Section  11  opens  thus  : 

*'  After  so  wide  a  compass  as  I  have  wandered,  I  do  now 
gladly  overtake  and  close  in  with  my  snbject,  and  shall 
henceforth  hold  on  with  it  an  even  pace  to  the  end  of  my 
journey,  except  some  beautiful  prospect  appears  within 
sight  of  my  way  ;  whereof  though  at  present  I  have  neither 
warning  nor  expectation,  yet  upon  such  an  accident,  come 
when  it  will,  I  shall  beg  my  reader's  favour  and  company, 
allowing  me  to  conduct  him  through  it  along  with  myself."  ' 

This  section  concerns  Jack  and  the  -J^]olists.  Was  James 
the  First  either  inclined  to  or  a  believer  in  this  sect  ?  In 
connection  with  this  thought,  we  from  p.  1-44  quote  as 
follows  : 

"  He  had  a  tongue  so  musculous  and  subtle,  that  he 
could  twist  it  up  into  his  nose,  and  deliver  a  strange  kind 
of  speech  from  thence.'  He  was  also  the  first  in  these 
kingdoms  who  began  to  improve  the  Spanish  accomplish- 
ment of  braying  ;  and  having  large  ears,  perpetually  ex- 
posed and  erected,  he  carried  his  art  to  such  a  perfection, 
that  it  was  a  point  of  great  difficulty  to  distinguish,  either 
by  the  view  or  the  sound,  between  the  original  and  the 
copy." 

_  Again,  p.  146  :  "It  was  highly  worth  observing  the 
singular  effects  of  that  aversion  or  antipathy  which  Jack 
and  his  brother  Peter  seemed,  even  to  an  affectation,  to 
bear  against  each  other.  Peter  had  lately  done  some 
rogueries  that  forced  him  to  abscond,  and  he  seldom  ven- 
tured to  stir  out  before  night,  for  fear  of  bailiffs.  Their 
lodgings  were  at  the  two  most  distant  parts  of  the  town 
from  each  other  ;  and  whenever  their  occasions  or  humours 
called  them  abroad,  they  would  make  choice  of  the  oddest 

of  designs,  and  that  manner  of  action,  which  effects  everything  by 
dark  arts  and  methods  (or  menees  sourdes  as  the  French  call"  them)  be 
both  useful  and  admirable  ;  yet  frequently,  as  is  said,  dissimulation 
breeds  errors  which  ensnare  the  dissembler  himself."  (De  Aug- 
mentis,  ch.  2,  Book  8.) 

'  There  are  reasons  to  think  that  Lord  Bacon  was,  from  early 
years,  preparing  to  re-enact  his  life  incidents  upon  posterity's  stage. 
Had  it  not  been  for  his  fall,  other  methods  were  intended  for  the 
laudation  of  his  Shakespeare  Mask.     See  p.  114. 

^^  In  Weldon's  "  Court  and  Cliaracter  of  Kmg  James,"  p.  55,  it  is 
said  that  "his  beard  was  very  thin  ;  his  tongue  too  large  for  his 
mouth,  which  ever  made  liim  drink  very  uncomely,  as  if  eating  his 
drink,  which  came  out  into  the  cup  of  each  side  his  mouth." 


584  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYKIXTH. 

unlikely  times,  and  most  uncouth  rounds  tliey  could  in- 
vent, tliat  they  might  be  sure  to  avoid  one  another  ;  yet, 
after  all  this,  it  was  their  perpetual  fortune  to  meet.  The 
reason  of  which  is  easy  enough  to  apprehend  ;  for,  the 
frenzy  and  the  spleen  of  both  having  the  same  foundation, 
we  may  look  upon  them  as  two  pair  of  compasses,  equally 
extended,  and  the  fixed  foot  of  each  remaining  in  the  same 
centre,  which,  though  moving  contrary  ways  at  first,  will 
be  sure  to  encounter  somewhere  or  other  in  the  circum- 
ference." 

The  section  ends  thus  : 

"  Now,  he  that  will  examine  human  nature  with  circum- 
spection enough  may  discover  several  handles,*  whereof  tne 
six  senses  affords  one  a-piece,  besides  a  great  number  that 
are  screwed  to  the  passions,  and  some  few  riveted  to  the 
intellect.*  Among  these  last,  curiosity  is  one,  and  of  all 
others,  affords  the  firmest  grasp  :  curiosity,  that  spur  in 
the  side,  that  bridle'  in  the  mouth,  that  ring  in  the  nose, 
of  a  lazy  and  impatient  and  a  grunting  reader.  By  this 
handle  it  is,  that  an  author  should  seize  upon  his  readers  ; 
which  as  soon  as  he  has  once  compassed,  all  resistance  and 
struggling  are  in  vain  ;  and  tliey  become  his  prisoners  as 
close  as  he  pleases,  till  weariness  or  dulness  force  him  to 
let  go  his  grip. 

"  And  therefore,  I,  the  author  of  this  miraculous  treat- 
ise, having  hitherto,  beyond  expectation,  maintained,  by 
the  aforesaid  handle,  a  firm  hold  upon  my  gentle  readers, 
it  is  with  great  reluctance  that  I  am  at  length  compelled 
to  remit  my  grasp  ;  leaving  them,  in  the  perusal  of  what 
remains,  to  that  natural  oscitancy  inherent  in  tlie  tribe. 
I  can  only  assure  thee,  courteous  reader,  for  both  our  com- 
forts, that  my  concern  is  altogether  equal  to  thine  for  my 
unhappiness  in  losing,  or  mislaying  among  my  papers,  the 
remaining  part  of  these  memoirs  ;  which  consisted  of  acci- 
dents, turns,  and  adventures,  both  new,  agreeable,    and 

'  We  here  again  have  this  distinctively  used  Baconian  word 
"  handle,"  and  now  found  in  Swift. 

'  It  may  be  seen  at  p.  138  that  Bacon  classes  sex  as  tlie  sixth  sense. 

^  Here,  again,  we  have  Bacon's  "  spur"  and  "  bridle,"  and  spread 
everywhere  in  the  plays.  Bacon  says  :  "  So  that  I  conclude,  that  if 
your  Majesty  take  a  profit  of  them  in  the  interim  (considering  you 
refuse  profit  from  the  old  company),  it  will  be  bolh  spur  and  bridle 
to  them,  to  make  them  pace  aright  to  your  Majesty's  end. "  (Bacon's 
Letters,  vol.  v.,  p.  172.    And  see  p.  142.) 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  685 

surprising  ;  and  therefore  calculated,  in  all  due  points,  to 
the  delicate  taste  of  this  our  noble  age.  But,  alas  !  with 
my  utmost  endeavours,  I  have  been  able  only  to  retain  a 
few  of  the  heads.  Under  which,  there  was  a  full  account 
how  Peter  got  a  protection  out  of  the  King's  bench  ;  and 
of  a  reconcilement  between  Jack  and  him,  upon  a  design 
that  they  had,  in  a  certain  rainy  night,  to  trepan  brother 
Martin  into  a  sponging-house,  and  there  strij?  him  to  the 
skin.  How  Martin,  with  much  ado,  showed  them  both  a 
fair  pair  of  heels.  How  a  new  warrant  came  out  against 
Peter  ;  upon  which,  how  Jack  left  him  in  the  lurch,  stole 
his  protection,  and  made  use  of  it  himself.  How  Jack's 
tatters  came  into  fashion  in  court  and  city  ;  how  he  got 
upon  a  great  horse,  and  eat  custard.  But  the  particulars 
of  all  these,  with  several  others  which  have  now  slid  out  of 
my  memory,  are  lost  beyond  all  hopes  of  recovery.  For 
which  misfortune,  leaving  my  readers  to  condole  with 
each  other,  as  far  as  they  shall  find  it  to  agree  with  their 
several  constitutions,  but  conjuring  them  by  all  the  friend 
ship  that  has  passed  between  us,  from  the  title-page  to 
this,  not  to  proceed  so  far  as  to  injure  their  healths  for  an 
accident  past  remedy— I  now  go  on  to  the  ceremonial  part 
of  an  accomplished  writer,  and  therefore,  by  a  courtly 
modern,  least  of  all  others  to  be  omitted." 

Note  in  this  section  the  expressions  "  none  of  my  case," 
''noble  matter,"  "blow  of  fate,"  "fell  to  prayers," 
"ambient  heat,"  "feared  no  colours,"  "of  this  more 
hereafter."     See  as  to  the  last  expression  p.  395, 

In  the  foregoing  quotation  the  use  of  the  word  "  handle," 
as  a  something  for  mind  or  memory  to  take  hold  of,  is  dis- 
tinctly Baconian.  See  Novum  Organum,  Aph.  20,  Book 
2.  We  quote  a  part,  thus  :  "  Other  instances  afford  the 
following  species  :  namely,  that  a  multitude  of  circum- 
stances or  handles  assist  the  memory,  such  as  writing  in 
paragraphs,  reading  aloud,  or  recitation.  Lastly,  other 
instances  afford  still  another  species  ;  that  the  things  we 
anticipate,  and  which  rouse  our  attention,  are  more  easily 
remembered  than  transient  events  ;  as  if  you  read  any 
work  twenty  times  over,  you  will  not  learn  "it  by  heart  so 
readily  as  if  you  were  to  read  it  but  ten  times,  trying  each 
time  to  repeat  it,  and  when  your  memory  fails  you  looking 
into  the  book.  There  are,  therefore,  six  lesser  forms,  as  il; 
were,  of  things  which  assist  the  memory  :  namely— 1,  the 


586  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.. 

separation  of  infinity  ;  2,  the  connection  of  the  mind  witli 
the  senses  ;  3,  the  impression  in  strong  passion  ;  4,  tlie 
impression  on  the  mind  when  pure  ;  5,  the  multitude  of 
handles  ;'  6,  anticipation." 

Among  the  concluding  remarks  of  the  article  we  have  : 
"  In  my  disposure  of  employments  of  the  brain  I  have 
thought  fit  to  make  invention  the  master,''  and  to  give 
method  and  reason  the  office  of  its  lackeys.'  The  cause 
of  this  distinction  was,  from  observing  it  my  peculiar  case 
to  be  often  under  a  temptation  of  being  witty,  upon  occa- 
sion where  I  could  be  neither  wise,  nor  sound,  nor  anything 
to  the  matter  in  hand.  And  I  am  too  much  a  servant  of 
the  modern  way  to  neglect  any  such  opportunities,  whatever 
pains  or  improprieties  I  may  be  at  to  introduce  them." 

This  great  satire  is  brought  to  a  close  under  the  title 
*'  A  Project  for  the  Universal  Benefit  of  Mankind,"  and 
which  we  regard  as  containing  allusions  to  the  ruin  of 
Bacon's  great  scheme  concerning  his  Solomon's  House  of 
the  New  Atlantis.     It  is  as  follows  : 

"  The  author,  having  laboured  so  long,  and  done  so  much, 
to  serve  and  instruct  the  public,  without  any  advantage  to 
himself,  has  at  last  thought  of  a  project  which  will  tend  to 
the  great  benefit  of  all  mankind  and  produce  a  handsome 
revenue  to  the  author.  He  intends  to  print  by  subscrip- 
tion, in  ninety-six  large  volumes  in  folio,  an  exact  descrip- 
tion of  Terra  Austral  is  incognita,*  collected  with  great 
care  and  pains  from  999  learned  and  pious  authors  of  un- 
doubted veracity.  The  whole  work,  illustrated  with  maps 
and  cuts  agreeable  to  the  subject,  and  done  by  the  best 
masters,  will  cost  but  one  guinea  each  volume  to  sub- 
scribers ;  one  guinea  to  be  paid  in  advance,  and  afterwards 

1  See  pp.  110  and  396,  note  3,  and  concerning  memory  and  the 
note-book,  see  De  Augmentis.  ch.  5,  Book  5,  Bohu  ed.,  p.  213,  and 
where  we  have  :  "  But  among  all  the  methods  and  commonplace 
books  we  have  hitherto  seen,  there  is  not  one  of  value  ;  as  savoring 
of  the  school  rather  than  the  world,  and  using  rather  vulgar  and 
pedantical  divisions  than  such  as  any  way  penetrate  things. ' '  See 
Sonnet  77,  p.  190.     And  see  p.  135,  note  1,  and  561,  note  2. 

'■*  The  word  "  master"  will  be  found  a  master  word  with  Bacon  ; 
and  we  find  him  using  the  expressions  "master  wheel,"  "master 
passion."  "  than  I  am  master  of,"  and  "  the  stomach  is  master  of  the 
house,"  etc.     See  p.  550,  note  3. 

'  This  is  just  what  is  done  in  the  play  of  The  Tempest,  Ariel  being 
the  master  among  his  fellows. 

■»  See  pp.  21,  23,  44,  478,  and  569. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  587 

a  guinea  on  receiving  each  volume,  except  the  last.  This 
work  will  be  of  great  use  for  all  men,  and  necessary  for  all 
families,  because  it  contains  exact  accounts  of  all  the  prov- 
wW  ""^  '   ^""f  mansions   of   that  spacious  country, 

7nh^',J  ^  ^^''T^  '^^J""^'  ^"  transgressors  of  the  law  are 
to  be  transported  ;  and  every  one  having  this  work  mav 

enough  for  a  1,  so  as  every  one  shall  be  fully  satisfied. 

be  bon^.t^«t  f'SL'^PP?'^'/^'^*  "^^^  ^^Py  ^^  *1"«  ^ork  will 
be  bought  at  the  public  charge,  or  out  of  the  parish  rates 

for  every  parish  church  in  tlfe  three  kingdomran  n  a  i 
t  'w™""'"'''  tl^«7""to  belonging  ;  and  that  every  family 
that  can  command  ten  pounds  per  annum,  even  though 

one'"  fWi?""'  ^r^  ^'T'^r^  '''^''''''''  ^ill  Bubscr/be  f? 
vpn;w  f  not  think  of  giving  out  above  nine  volumes 
yearly  ;  and  considering  the  number  requisite,  he  intends 
o  print  at  least  100,000  for  the  first  Edition.  He  irto 
punt  proposals  against  next  term,  with  a  specimen  aula 
curious  map  of  the  capital  city,  with  its  twelve  gatesVfom 
a  knovvn  author,  who  took  an  exact  survey  of  it  in  a  dream 
Considei-mg  the  great  care  and  pains  of  the  authoi  and 
the  usefulness  of  the  work,  he  hopes  every  one  wi^ll  be 

cheeSulTt^'^t  ri  ''f  '^"^^A^  ^-^''^  -"tiibute 
cneeitully  to  it,  and  not  grudge  h  m  the  profit  bp  mn,r 

as  ne  exjDects  it  will  very  soon 

PiJn'^!/^''"^*';''''^  ^"^  '^  ^^^^  be  translated  into  for- 
eign languages  by  most  nations  of  Europe,  as  w^ell  as  of 
Asia  and  Africa,  beiuff  of  as  svent  u.p  +n  .  ii  n  f- 

as  in  bi'Q  nwr,  .  L„  +1  •  ^  .     ^®  t°  ^^^  "lose  nations 

ents  and  r^nvilpap'  f "'  ''''^•^'  ^''  ^^^^^^^«  ^^^  P^-oc"i-e  pat- 
self  from  n  V5  r^  '''?""^  *^^  ^'^^^^  benefit  to  him- 
self from  all  those  different  princes  and  states  ;  and  hopes 
to  see  many  mi  lions  of  this  great  work  printed  those 
different  coimtnes  and  languages,  before  his  death, 
promised  to  m?t.'f,!f''i  ''  ^''^^7  ^'"  established,  he  has 

as  tMs  bv  ?«HhH  T'^  °^  ^"^^^^""  P^'^^'^^t^  ^^"^^^^  as  good 
as  tms,  by  establishing  insurance-offices  everywhere  for 
securing  people  from  shipwreck  and  seveml  other  ace  dents 
uriS'a'tTf!.'"  ''''\  ^^"f*^^'  ^^d  these  office  sha 
and  at  know  .1  T  ''^'/  ^'Y'.  '''^^  ^'^^''^ed  in  the  route 
ana  mat  Jviiow  all  the  rocks,  shelves,  quicksands  etc  tbnf 
Buch  pilgrims  and  travellers  may  be  'exposed To.''  Of 'these 
'He  here  alludes,  we  think,  to-  his  own  shipwrecked  enterprise 


588  THREAD   OF  THE   LABYRINTH. 

he  knows  a  great  number  ready  instructed  in  most  coun- 
tries :  but  the  whole  scheme  of  this  matter  he  is  to  draw 
uj)  at  large  and  communicate  to  his  friend. 

"  Here  ends  the  manuscript/' 

Portions  of  this  work  we  regard  as  written  while  Bacon 
was  staggering  under  the  bitterness  of  his  fall.  We  think 
it  had  earlier  taken  shape  as  the  head  centre  to  his  lit- 
erary scheme,  but  was  broken  and  diverted  by  the  men- 
tioned event,  and  which  but  renders  it  the  more  difficult 
of  interpretation.  What  we  unhesitatingly  claim  is,  that 
it  is  a  product  of  Bacon's  pen,  though  we  may  not  have 
correctly  outlined  it.'  The  work  is  couched  chiefly  in  the 
reign  of  James  the  First.  And  why  should  Jonathan 
Swift  so  linger  here  ?  This  author,  whose  eye  is  bent  so 
sharply  for  his  work  upon  posterity,  is  at  the  same  time  one 
whose  whole  attributed  writings  might  be  compassed  in  a 
single  moderate  sized  volume  ;  and  the  only  piece  issued 
under  his  hand  is  an  article  of  not  above  a  dozen  pages, 
entitled  "  A  Proposal  for  Giving  Badges  to  the  Beggars  in 
All  the  Parishes  of  Dublin,''  and  which  is,  we  judge,  but 
a  garbled  Baconian  piece.  We  think,  however,  that  much 
of  the  work  designed  for  the  j^art  played  by  him  became 
attrilmted  to  others  in  the  great  scheme. 

As  to  the  location  of  Bacon's  Poetical  Commonwealth,  it 
is,  in  our  quotation  at  p.  21,  said  :  "  The  longitude,  for 
some  reasons,  I  will  conceal."^ 

As  to  the  "  longitude,"  we  now  from  Addison,  vol.  vi., 

and  to  an  intention  of  preparing  a  warning  to  others.  Was  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress  an  attempt  in  tliis  direction  ? 

'  Tlie  work,  aside  from  some  tampering  with  the  section  entitled 
"The  History  of  Martin  (continued),"  and  some  few  changes  in 
names  and  dates,  contains  very  few  interpolations,  we  think. 

■■'  Bacon  in  ch.  2  of  Book  6  of  the  Dc  Augmeutis,  and  which  con- 
cerns the  transmission  of  writings  to  posterity,  says  :  "  Certainly 
sciences,  if  a  man  rightly  ohserve  it,  have,  besides  jirofundity,  two 
other  dimensions,  namely  latitude  and  longitude.  The  profundity 
relates  to  their  truth  and  reality  ;  for  it  is  they  which  give  solidity. 
As  to  the  other  two,  the  latitude  may  be  accounted  and  computed 
from  one  science  to  another  ;  the  longitude  from  the  highest  propo- 
sition to  the  lowest  in  the  same  science.  The  one  contains  the  true 
bounds  and  limits  of  sciences,  that  the  propositions  thereof  may  be 
handled  properly,  not  promiscuously,  and  repetition,  excursion,  and 
all  confusion  may  be  avoided  ;  the  other  prescribes  the  rule  how  far 
and  to  what  degree  of  iiarticularity  the  propositions  of  a  science 
should  be  deduced."    (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iv.,  p.  453.) 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  589 

p.  681,  quote  as  follows,  Bacon  claiming  the  right,  as  we 
have  seen,  to  make  merry  with  his  own  matters  : 

^'  Ode  for  Music  on  the  Longitude. 
RecUativo. 

"  The  lon.<:^tude  mist  on 

By  wicked  Will.  Whiston, 
And  not  better  hit  on 
By  good  Master  Ditton. 
Bitornello. 

■"  So  Ditton  and  Wliiston 
May  both  be  bep  — st  on  ; 
And  "Whiston  and  Ditton 
May  both  be  besh — t  on. 

"  Sing  Ditton 
Besli — t  on  ; 
And  Whiston 
Bep — St  ou. 

"  Sing  Ditton  and  Wliiston, 
And  Whiston  and  Ditton, 
Besh — t  and  bep—  st  on, 
Bep— st  and  besh — t  on. 

Da  Capo." 

See  also  the  Addison  article  on  the  '' longitii'de,"  and 
where  these  parties  are  referred  to,  vol.  iv.,  p.  198.  We 
give  the  first  half  of  the  article  thus  : 
■  ''  I  have  lately  entertained  my  reader  with  two  or  three 
letters  from  a  traveller,  and  may  possibly,  in  some  of  my 
future  papers,  oblige  him  with  more  from  the  same  hand. 
The  following  one  comes  from  a  projector,  which  is  a  sort 
of  correspondent  as  diverting  as  a  traveller  :  his  subject 
having  the  same  grace  and  novelty  to  recommend  it,  and 
being  equally  adapted  to  the  curiosity  of  the  reader.  For 
my  own  part,  I  ha«ve  always  had  a  particular  fondness  for 
a  project,  and  may  say,  without  vanity,  that  I  have  a 
pretty  tolerable  genius  that  way  myself,  I  could  mention 
some  which  I  have  brought  to  matiy-ity,  others  which  have 
miscarried,  and  many  more  which  I  have  yet  by  me,  and 
are  to  take  their  fate  in  the  world  when  I  see  a  proper 
juncture.  I  had  a  hand  in  the  land-bank,  and  was  con- 
sulted with  upon  the  reformation  of  manners.     I  have  had 


590  THREAD    OF   THE   LABYRINTH. 

several  designs  iijjon  the  Thames  and  the  New  Eiver,'  not 
to  mention  my  refinements  upon  lotteries  and  insurances, 
and  that  never-to-be-forgotten  project,  which  if  it  had  suc- 
ceeded to  my  wishes,  would  have  made  gold  as  plentiful 
in  this  nation  as  tin  and  copper.  If  my  countrymen  have 
not  reaped  any  advantage  from  these  my  designs,  it  was 
not  for  want  of  any  good  will  towards  them.^  They  are 
obliged  to  me  for  my  kind  intentions  as  much  as  if  they  had 
taken  effect.  Projects  are  of  a  two-fold  nature  :  the  first 
arises  from  public-spirited  persons,  in  Avhich  number  I  de- 
clare myself  :  the  other  proceeding  from  a  regard  to  our 
private  interest,  to  which  nature  is  that  in  the  following 
letter.' 

"  "  '  Sir,  A  man  of  your  reading  knows  very  well  that 
there  were  a  set  of  men,  in  old  Eome,  called  by  the  name 
of  Nomenclators,  that  is,  in  English,  men  who  could  call 
every  one  by  his  name.  When  a  great  man  stood  for  any 
public  office,  as  that  of  a  tribune,  a  consul,  or  a  censor,  ho 
had  always  one  of  these  Nomenclators  at  his  elbow,  who 
whispered  in  his  ear  the  name  of  every  one  he  met  with, 
and  by  that  means  enabled  him  to  salute  every  Roman 
citizen  by  his  name  when  he  asked  him  for  his  vote.  To 
come  to  my  purpose,  I  have  with  much  pains  and  assiduity 
qualified  myself  for  a  Nomenclator  to  this  great  city,  and 
shall  gladly  enter  upon  my  office  as  soon  as  I  meet  with 
suitable  encouragement.  I  will  let  myself  out  by  the  week 
to  any  curious  gentleman  or  foreigner.  If  he  takes  me 
with  him  in  a  coach  to  the  ring,  I  will  undertake  to  teach 
him,  in  two  or  three  evenings,  the  names  of  the  most  cele- 
brated persons  who  frequent  that  place.     If  he  plants  me 

'  As  to  this  "  New  River,"  we  from  the  play  of  Henry  V.,  Act  Iv., 
sc.  7,  p.  559,  quote  as  follows  : 

"  Flu.  I  think  it  is  in  Macedon,  where  Alexander  is  porn.  I  tell 
yon,  captain, — if  yon  look  in  the  maps  of  the  'orld,  I  -warrant  you 
shall  find,  in  the  comparisons  between  Macedon  and  Monmouth, 
that  the  situations,  look  you,  is  both  alike.  There  is  a  river  in 
Macedon,  and  there  is  also  moreover  a  river  at  JMonmouth  :  it  is 
call'd  Wye  at  Monmouth,  but  it  is  out  of  my  prains,  what  is  the 
name  of  the  other  river  :  but  'tis  all  one  ;  'tis  alike  as  my  fingers  is 
to  my  fingers,  and  there  is  salmons  in  both.  If  you  mark  Alexan- 
der's life  well,  Hariy  of  Monmouth's  life  is  come  after  it  indifferent 
well  ,  for  there  is  figin-es  in  all  things." 

*  Prom  us.  988.  (In  great  matters  it  is  enorif/h  even  to  have  icilled 
to  (irhiere  them.     'Tis  not  in  mortals  to  ccimmand  success.) 

"  Sec  Bacon's  statement  as  to  the  woid  "  secretary."  p.  573,  note  1. 


THREAD   OF  THE   LABYRINTH.  591 

by  his  side  in  the  pit,  I  will  call  out  to  him,  in  the  same 
manner,  the  whole  circle  of  beauties  that  arc  disposed 
among  the  boxes,  and,  at  the  same  time,  point  out  to  him 
the  persons  who  ogle  them  from  their  respective  stations. 
I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  may  be  of  the  same  use  in  any 
other  public  assembly.  Nor  do  I  only  profess  the  teaching 
of  names,  but  of  things.  Upon  the  sight  of  a  reigning 
beauty,  I  shall  mention  her  admirers,  and  discover  her  gal- 
lantries, if  they  are  of  public  notoriety.  I  shall  likewise 
mark  out  every  toast,  the  club  in  which  she  was  elected, 
and  the  number  of  votes  that  were  on  her  side.  Not  a 
woman  shall  be  unexplained  that  makes  a  figure  either  as 
a  maid,  a  wife,  or  a  widow.  The  men  too  shall  be  set  out 
•  in  their  distinguishing  characters,  and  declared  whose  prop- 
erties they  are.  Their  wit,  wealth,  or  good  humour,  their 
persons,  stations,  and  titles,  shall  be  described  at  large. 

"  *  I  have  a  wife  who  is  a  Nomenclatress,  and  will  be 
ready,  on  any  occasion,  to  attend  the  ladies.  She  is  of  a 
much  more  communicative  nature  than  myself,  and  is 
acquainted  with  all  the  private  history  of  London  and 
Westminster,  and  ten  miles  around.  She  has  fifty  private 
amours  which  nobody  yet  knows  anything  of  but  herself, 
and  thirty  clandestine  marriages  that  have  not  been  touched 
by  the  tip  of  a  tongue.  She  will  wait  upon  any  lady  at 
her  own  lodgings,  and  talk  by  the  clock  after  the  rate  of 
three  guineas  an  hour. 

"  '  N.B. — She  is  a  near  kinswoman  to  the  author  of  the 
New  Atlantis. 

"  '  I  need  not  recommend  to  a  man  of  your  sagacity  the 
usefulness  of  this  project,  and  do  therefore  beg  your  en- 
couragement of  it,  which  will  lay  a  very  great  obligation 
upon  Your  humble  servant.^ 

"  After  this  letter  from  my  whimsical  correspondent, 
I  shall  publish  one  of  a  more  serious  nature,  which  deserves 
the  utmost  attention  of  the  public,  and  in  particular  of 
such  who  are  lovers  of  mankind.  It  is  on  no  less  a  subject 
than  that  of  discovering  the  longitude,'  and  deserves  a 
much  higher  name  than  that  of  a  project,  if  our  language 
afforded  any  such  term.     But  all  I  can  say  on  this  subject 

'  From  Gulliver's  Travels,  p.  247,  we  quote  as  follows  :  "  I  should 
then  see  the  discovery  of  the  longitude,  the  perpetual  motion,  the 
universal  medicine,  and  many  other  great  inventions,  brought  to  the 
utmost  perfection  ' ' 


59:3  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

will  be  superfluous,  wlieu  the  reader  sees  the  names  of 
tliose  persons  by  whom  this  letter  is  subscribed,  and  who 
have  done  me  the  honour  to  send  it  me.  I  must  only  take 
notice,  that  the  first  of  these  gentlemen  is  the  same  person 
who  has  lately  obliged  the  world  Avith  that  noble  plan,  en- 
titled, A  Scheme  of  the  Solar  System,  with  the  Orbits  of 
the  Planets  and  Comets  belonging  thereto.  Described 
from  Dr.  Halley's  accurate  Table  of.  Comets,  Philosoph. 
Transact.  No.  207,  founded  on  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  wonder- 
ful discoveries,  by  Wm.  Whiston,  M.A." 

Here  follows  a  letter  concerning  the  longitude  subscribed 
by  Will,  Whiston  and  Humphrey  Ditton.  It  is  needless  to 
say  that  all  such  letters  falling  within  the  Addison  articles 
are  by  the  author  of  them,  and  that  a  large  proportion  of 
these  articles  have  a  covert  meaning  and  subtlety  equal  to 
the  "  Tale  of  a  Tub."  We  must  confess,  however, 
that  we  arc  unable  to  see  how  the  mentioned  authors,  and 
particular  works  by  them,  and  who  were  much  later  than 
Bacon's  day,  could  be  by  him  made  the  subject  of  com- 
ment unless  these  particular  works  were  by  him  prepared 
and^,as  a  part  of  the  scheme  handed  down  in  certain  families.' 
Note  in  connection  with  this  thought  what  is  said  of 
"  Nomenclators." 

These  authors  are  all  familiar  with  the  most  subtle  views 
as  to  the  Church,  the  stage,  cipher  writing,  with  magic, 
with  ajjparitions,  with  second  sight,  with  dreams,  with 
astrolbgy,  with  mythology,  understanding  them  in  the 
same  sense  ;  and  their  metaphors  and  language  character- 
istics are  everywhere  the  same,  save  that  in  the  Addison 
articles  there  is  more  pruning  and  polish.  That  portion 
of  the  work  which  is  jjolitical  in  its  nature  ousted  the 
Scotch  or  Stuart  line  from  the  English  throne.  The 
terms  "  Whig"  and  "  Tory"  took  their  origin  doubtless  in 
and  at  the  first  moving  of  this  literature.  It,  and  not  the 
mere  abdication  of  James  the  Second,  gave  origin  to  what 
is  known  as  the  English  Eevolution. 

But  to  continue  :  the  letters  attributed  to  Addison  are 

'  Concerning  the  putting  forth  of  his  works  Bacon  says  :  "  But 
the  method  of  pubh'shing  these  things  is,  to  have  such  of  them  as 
tend  to  seize  the  correspondences  of  dispositions,  and  purge  the 
areas  of  minds,  given  out  to  the  vulgar  and  tallied  of  ;  to  have  the 
rest  handed  down  with  selection  and  judgment. "  See  p.  181.  Touch- 
ng  the  number  of  the  mentioned  article,  see  p.  517. 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  593 

but  a  portion  of  them  by  tlie  master  hand — that  is,  by  the 
author  of  the  body  of  the  Addison  literature,  and  many  of 
the  genuine  letters  are  sadly  garbled.  See,  for  example, 
letters  beginning  at  pp.  384,  423,  and  426  of  Addison, 
vol.  V.  We  here,  from  pp.  342  and  307,  give  place  to  two 
of  the  genuine  letters,  in  order  that  they  may  be  called 
into  language  relation.  The  first  bears  date  June  1 6th, 
1703,  and  is  as  follows  : 

"  May  IT  Please  your  Grace  :  By  a  letter  that  Mr. 
Tonson  has  shown  me,  I  find  that  I  am  very  much  obliged 
to  your  Grace  for  the  kind  opinion  that  you  are  pleased  to 
entertain  of  me.  I  should  be  extremely  glad  of  an  oppor- 
tunity of  deserving  it,  and  am  therefore  very  ready  to  close 
with  the  proposal  that  is  there  made  me  of  accompanying 
my  Lord  Marquis  of  Hertford  in  his  travels,  and  doing  his 
Lordship  all  the  services  that  I  am  capable  of.  I  have 
lately  received  one  or  two  advantageous  olfera  of  the  same 
nature,  but  as  I  should  be  very  ambitious  of  executing  any 
of  your  Grace's  commands,  so  I  cannot  think  of  taking  the 
like  employment  from  any  other  hands.  As  for  the  rec- 
ompense that  is  proposed  to  me,  I  must  take  the  liberty 
to  assure  your  Grace  that  I  should  not  see  my  account  in 
it,  but  in  the  hopes  that  I  have  to  recommend  myself  to 
your  Grace's  favour  and  approbation.  I  am  glad  your 
Grace  has  intimated  that  you  would  oblige  me  to  attend 
my  Lord  only  from  year  to  year,  tov  in  a  twelvemonth  it 
may  be  easily  seen  whether  I  can  be  of  any  advantage  to 
his  Lordship.  I  am  sure,  if  my  utmost  endeavours  can  do 
anything,  I  shall  not  fail  to  answer  your  Grace's  expecta- 
tions. About  a  fortnight  hence  I  hope  to  have  the  honour 
of  waiting  on  your  Grace,  unless  I  receive  any  commands 
to  the  contrary.     I  am,  etc. 

"  J.  Addison." 

Observe  here  the  Baconian  turns  of  expression,  and  note 
the  contrasted  thought  in  the  same  sentence  by  the  use  of 
the  words  "as"  and  "so;"  also  the  Baconian  expression 
"  see  my  accomit  in  it." 

The  second  letter  is  under  date  May  27th,  1708,  is  covert 
in  character  (see  Bacon's  letter,  p.  486),  and  is  as  follows  : 

"  I  cannot  forbear  being  troublesome  to  your  Lordship 
whilst  lam  in  your  neighborhood.  The  business  of  this 
is,  to  invite  you  to  a  concert  of  music,  which  I  have  found 


594  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

out  in  a  neighboring  wood.  It  begins  precisely  at  six  in 
the  evening,  and  consists  of  a  black-bird,  a  thrush,  a  robin- 
red-breast,  and  a  bullfinch.  There  is  a  lark  that,  by  way. 
of  overture,  sings  and  mounts  till  she  is  almost  out  of 
hearing,  and  afterwards,  falling  down  leisurely,  drops  to 
the  ground  as  soon  as  she  has  ended  her  song.  The  whole 
is  concluded  by  a  nightingale,  that  has  a  much  better  voice 
than  Mrs.  Tafts,  and  something  of  the  Italian  manner  in 
her  divisiols.  If  your  Lordship  will  honour  me  with  your 
compan}'^,  I  will  |)romise  to  entertain  you  with  much  better 
music,  and  more  agreeable  scenes,  than  ever  you  met  with 
at  the  opera  ;  and  will  conclude  with  a  charming  descrip- 
tion of  a  nightingale,  out  of  our  friend  Virgil  : 

"  '  Qualis  populea  mcerens  Philomela  sub  umbra 
Amissos  queritur  foetus,  quos  diirus  arator 
Observans  nido  implumes  detraxit  ;  at  ilia 
Flet  uoctem,  ramoque  sedens,  miserabile  carmen 
Integrat,  et  mcestis  late  loca  questibus  implet.' 

"  '  So,  close  in  poplar  shades,  her  children  gone, 
The  mother-nightingale  laments  alone  ; 
Whose  nest  some  prying  churl  had  found,  and  thence 
By  stealth  convey'd  th'  unfeather'd  iDnocence. 
But  she  supplies  the  night  with  mournful  strains. 
And  melancholj'  music  tills  the  plains. — Dryden. 
"  Your  Lordship's  most  obedient,' 

"  J,  Addison." 

We  now  call  this  letter  into  relation  with  what  Bacon 
says  concerning  the  lark,  which  is  "  that  pregmatical  men 
are  of  the  opinion  that  learning  is  like  the  lark  which  can 
mount  and  sing  and  please  itself  and  nothing  else  ;  but 

•  Let  the  reader  also  note  in  Addison  the  letter  which  immediately 
precedes  and  follows  this  one.  The  w  orks  of  Dryden  we  suppose  to 
contain  at  least  a  portion  of  this  literature,  though  as  yet  we  have 
made  but  slight  inspection  of  them.  Concerning  the  words  "  the 
mother  nightingale,"  we  from  Addison,  vol.  vi.,  p.  559,  quote  : 

"  Oft  in  the  grove  her  curious  mansions  hung, 
His  rage  o'erthrows  and  slays  the  crying  young  ; 
The  mother-bird,  from  far,  beholds  with  pain 
Her  kingdoms  rifled,  and  her  infants  slain  ; 
Whose  little  lives  their  parents'  guilt  atone. 
For  crimes,  alas  !  expiring,  not  their  own." 

The  word  "'  children"  as  here  used  we  understand  to  mean  literary 
products  ;  in  other  words,  children  of  the  brain.  <  See  p.  72  and 
Sonnet  77,  p.  190.     And  as  to  the  nightingale,  see  p.  55,  note  1. 


THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.  695 

may  know  that  it  rather  partakes  of  the  nature  of  a  hawk 
which  can  soar  aloft  and  can  also  descend  and  strike  upon 
its  prey  at  pleasure."     See  pp.  85  and  500. 

Now  are  we  at  the  porch  of  a  world  of  relations,  and  avo 
throw  wide  the  door. 

If  Bacon  be  author  of  this  letter,  then  stands  he  in  re- 
lation to  Lilliput  and  the  Pygmies  of  Swift  ;  and  if  with 
Swift,  then  with  Addison.  See  "The  Battle  of  the 
Pvgmies  and  Cranes/'  Addison,  vol.  vi.,  pp.  558-73  ; 
while  his  article  entitled  "  The  Puppet  Show/'^  pp.  580-83, 
ends  thus,  and  which  we  would  have  the  reader  note  with 
some  care  : 

"  Now  sing  we  whence  the  puppet-actors  came, 
What  hidden  power  supplies  the  hollow  frame  ; 
What  cunniag  agent  o'er  the  scenes  presides, 
And  all  the  secret  operation  guides. 
The  tiirner  shapes  the  u.seless  log^  with  care. 
And  forces  it  a  human  form  to  wear  : 
With  the  sharp  steel  he  works  the  wooden  race. 
And  lends  the  timber  an  adopted  face. 
Tenacious  wires  the  legs  and  feet  unite. 
And  arms  connected  keep  the  shoulders  right. 
Adopted  organs  to  fit  organs  join, 
And  joints  with  joints,  and  limbs  with  limbs  combine. 
Then  adds  he  active  wheels  and  springs  unseen. 
By  which  he  artful  turns  the  small  machine, 
That  moves  at  pleasure  by  the  secret  wires  ; 
And  last  his  voice  the  senseless  trunk  inspires. 

"  From  such  a  union  of  inventions  came, 
And  to  perfection  grew,  the  puppet-frame  ; 

'  De  Augmentis,  Book  8,  ch.  2.  Note  also  this  use  of  the  word 
"  lark"  in  Sonnet  29,  p.  294.     Bacon's  Promus,  1212.     The  lark. 

'  Bacon  says  :  "  As  for  novelty,  no  man  can  wade  deep  in  learn- 
ing, without  discovering  that  he  knows  nothing  thoroughly  ;  nor 
can  wonder  at  a  puppet-show,  if  we  look  behind  the  curtain.  With 
regard  to  greatness  ;  as  AJexander,  after  having  been  used  to  great 
armies,  and  the  conquests  of  large  provinces  in  Asia,  when  he  re- 
ceived accounts  of  battles  from  Greece,  which  were  commonly  for  a 
pass,  a  fort,  or  some  walled  town,  imagined  he  was  but  reading 
Homer's  battle  of  the  frogs  and  the  mice  ;  so  if  a  man  considers  the 
universal  frame,  the  earth  and  its  inhabitants  will  seem  to  him  but 
as  an  ant-hill,  where  some  carry  grain,  some  their  young,  some  go 
empty,  and  all  march  but  upon  a  little  heap  of  dust.  ^De  Aug- 
mentis. Book  1,  Bohn's  ed.,  p.  67.)    See  p.  487,  note  2. 

'  Please  see  p.  357,  note  1,  "  Men  are  made  of  wood."  In  Defoe 
we  have  :  "  And  how  will  ^^ou  look  like  .Jupiter's  log  of  wood,  which 
he  gave  the  Frogs  for  a  King?"     Lee,  vol.  ii.,  p.  107. 


696  THREAD  OF  THE  LABTEINTH. 

Tlie  workman's  mark  its  origin  reveal, 
And  own  the  traces  of  the  forming  steel. 
Hence  are  its  dance,  its  motions,  and  its  tone, 
Its  speaking  voice,  and  accents  not  its  own." 

Here  have  we  allusion  not  merely  to  the  members,  but 
to  the  full  Jointed  Baby  of  the  Defoe  period.     See  p.  573. 

And  in  Swift's  Island  blown  high  in  air  may  we  behold 
the  Solomon's  House  of  the  New  Atlantis,  and  so  of  the 
rest.  After  his  fall,  Bacon  was  the  Pygmy,  before,  the  Man- 
mountain.     In  an  eijilogue,  same  volume,  p.  532,  we  have  : 

"  Tlie  sage  whose  guests  you  are  to-night  is  known 
To  watch  the  public  weal,  though  not  his  own  : 
Still  have  his  thoughts  uncommon  schemes  pursued, 
And  teemed  with  projects  for  his  country's  good. 
Early  in  youth  his  enemies  have  shown 
How  narrowly  he  missed  the  chemic  stone  : 
Not  Friar  Bacon  promised  England  more  ; 
Our  artist,  lavish  of  his  fancied  ore, 
Could  he  have  brought  his  great  design  to  pass. 
Had  walled  us  round  with  gold  instead  of  brass. 
That  project  sunk,  you  saw  him  entertain 
A  notion  nu)re  chimerical  and  vain  •} 
To  gave  chaste  morals  to  ungoverned  youth, 
To  gamesters  honesty,  to  statesmen  truth  ; 
To  make  them  virtuous  all  ; — a  thought  more  bold, 
Than  that  of  changing  dross  and  lead  to  gold. 
Of  late  with  more  heroic  warmth  inspired. 
For  still  his  country's  good  our  champion  tired  ; 
In  treaties  versed,  in  politics  grew  wise. 
He  looked  on  Dunkirk  with  suspicious  eyes  ; 
Into  its  dark  foundations  boldly  dug. 
And  overthrew  in  light  the  Lord  Sieur  Tugghe. 
But  now  to  nobler  thoughts  his  view  extends. 
Which  I  may  tell,  since  none  are  here  but  friends. 

"  In  a  few  months,  he  is  not  without  hope 
(But  'tis  a  secret)  to  convert  the  Pope  : 
Of  this,  however,  we'll  inform  you  better, 
Soon  as  his  Holiness  receives  his  letter. 

"  Meanwhile  he  celebrates  (for  'tis  his  way) 
With  something  singular  this  happy  day, 

'  Bacon  here  alludes  first  to  his  thwarted  scheme  for  revenue,  and 
second  to  his  scheme — the  Jointed  Baby — of  the  Defoe  period  and 
the  ends  to  be  attained  by  it.  See  "  jointed  baby,"  p.  366,  note  1. 
And  in  Addison,  vol.  iv.,  p.  298,  we  have  :  "  I  had  a  great  deal  of 
business  on  my  hands,  (says  she,)  being  taken  up  the  first  twelve  years 
of  my  life  in  dressing  a  jointed  baby,  and  all  the  remaining  part  of  it 
in  reading  plays  and  romances. ' ' 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  597 

His  honest  zeal  ambitious  to  approve 
For  the  great  monarch  he  was  born  to  love  ; 
Resolved  in  arms  and  art  to  do  him  right, 
And  serve  his  sovereign  like  a  trusty  knight." 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  one  great  design  of  the  Jointed 
Baby  was  to  give  the  overtlirow  to  the  idea  of  the  divine 
right  of  Kings  and  greater  freedom  to  the  English  consti- 
tution.    "  The  times  are  ont  of  joint,"  p.  94. 

At  the  beginning  of  each  of  Bacon's  Avills  may  be  seen  his 
distinct  belief  in  the  Eesnrrection  ;  and  so  in  Addison,  vol. 
vi.,  p.  573,  see  the  poem  npon  that  subject  and  where  it 
is  said  :  "  These  lines  (the  Latin)  are  esteemed  by  the 
best  judges  to  be  the  finest  sketch  of  the  Resurrection  that 
any  age  or  language,  has  produced."  As  to  Bacon's  writ- 
ing in  verse,  see  his  translation  of  various  psalms.  Literary 
Works,  vol.  ii.,  beginning  at  p.  271.  And  see  quotations 
at  p.  153. 

To  those  who  have  not  reflected  npon  Bacon's  anxious 
eye  uj^on  posterity,  evidenced  in  every  phase  of  these  writ- 
ings, and  particularly  in  the  Sonnets,  and  upon  aims  pur- 
posed by  portions  of  this  literature,  it  may  seem  incon- 
sistent to  think  that  a  work  like  the  "  Tale  of  a  Tub" 
could  issue  with  criticism  answered  by  an  author  already 
dead.  But  we  must  take  into  account  the  fact  that  the 
true  author  of  this  literature  was  the  brightest  genius  the 
world  has  known,  and  that  the  actors  in  j)wtting  it  forth 
liad  connection  with,  and  standing  in  the  councils  of  the 
nation,  and  longed  to  see  the  changes  which  it  was  designed 
to  introduce.  And  accompanying  it  there  may  have  ex- 
isted the  expressed  wish  that  its  authorship  should  never 
be  disclosed,  unless,  or  until  time,  which  with  Bacon's  be- 
lief is  the  discoverer  of  all  things,  should  bring  it  to  light.  ^ 

Portions  of  the  mentioned  work  issuing  through  journals 
managed  by  one  set  of  Hadey's  agents,  and  criticism  and 
answer  thereto  by  the  true  author,  in  others,  the  reissue 
would  appear  as  we  find  it.^  Bacon  here,  as  in  the  intro- 
ductory matter  to  his  Shakespeare  writings,  made  doubt- 
less all  preparations  therefor  prior  to  his  death,  and  so 

1  Promus,  341.  So  give  authors  their  due  as  you  give  time  his 
due  which  is  to  discover  truth.    See  p.  347,  note  3. 

'  As  to  prefaces  and  the  introductory  matter  to  this  work,  see 
Bacon  on  prefaces  at  the  conclusion  of  ch.  3  of  Book  6  of  the  De 
Augmentis.     Sec  formula,  pp.  4G7  and  517. 


508  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH.         , 

before  publication.  In  Aj)!!.  97  of  the  Novum  Organum 
Bacon  says  : 

"  No  one  has  yet  been  found  possessed  of  sufficient  firm- 
ness and  severity  to  resolve  upon  and  undertake  the  task  of 
entirely  abolishing  common  theories  of  notions,  and  apply- 
ing the  mind  afresh,  when  thus  cleared  and  levelled,  to 
particular  researches  ;  hence  our  human  reasoning  is  a 
mere  farrago  and  crude  mass  made  up  of  a  great  deal  of 
credulity  and  accident,  and  the  puerile  notions  it  originally 
contracted. 

"But  if  a  man  of  mature  age,  unprejudiced  senses,  and 
clear  mind,  would  betake  himself  anew  to  experience  and 
particulars,  we  might  hope  much  more  from  such  a  one  ; 
in  which  respect  we  promise  ourselves  the  fortune  of  Alex- 
ander the  Great,  and  let  none  accuse  us  of  vanity  till  they 
have  read  the  tale,  which  is  intended  to  check  vanity." 

We  hope,  therefore,  to  have  satisfied  the  reader  that  we 
have  at  least  struck  the  thread  of  relation  to  all  of  the 
works  under  review  ;  and  this,  though  by  new  develoji- 
ments  we  have  turned  somewhat  aside  from  our  original 
design,  having  purjiosed  a  more  thorough  investigation 
into  the  subjects  of  mythology,  astrology,  magic,  second 
sight,  and  apparitions,  as  no  two  minds  were  ever  yet  in 
these  fringed  alike,  and  hence  their  better  fields  for  proofs. 
We  have,  at  least,  in  the  course  pursued  rendered,  we  think, 
a  more  important  service,  by  bounding  what  we  regard  as 
the  true  field  of  relations,  and  thus  have  we  opened  the 
way  to  that  gigantic  central  system  of  which  Bacon  was 
alone  the  true  beacon.  It  is  true  that  in  the  course  pur- 
sued two  thirds  of  the  labor  exiDcnded  upon  the  subject  has 
not  as  yet  been  brought  under  review,  but  of  this  the 
reader  may  yet  possibly  receive  the  benefit.  However  this 
may  be,  the  bell  has  been  rung  which  will  bring  better  wit 
to  the  field. 

We  therefore  feel  content  to  bring  our  present  labors  to 
a  close  in  Bacon's  dedicatory  epistle  of  the  "  Tale  of  a 
Tub'*  to  posterity,  and  which  is  in  these  words  : 

"  To  His  Eoyal  Highness  Prince  Posterity.  Sir, — 
I  here  present  your  highness  with  the  fruits  of  a  very  few 
leisure  hours,  stolen'  from  the  short  intervals  of  a  world  of 

'  This  use  of  the  word  "  stolen,"  as  connected  with  tlie  subject  of 
time,  was  not  unconunou  with  jjacou,  and  his  dedicatory  letter  of 


'thread  of  the  labyrinth.  599 

business,  and  of  an  employment  quite  alien  from  such 
amusements  as  this  the  poor  production  of  that  refuse  of 
time,  which  has  laid  heavy  upon  my  hands  during  a  long 
protraction  of  parliament,  a  great  dearth  of  foreign  news, 
and  a  tedious  fit  of  rainy  weather  ;  for  which,  and  other 
reasons,  it  cannot  chose  extremely  to  deserve  such  a  pat- 
ronage as  that  of  your  highness,  ^hose  numberless  virtues, 
in  so  few  years,  make  the  world  look  upon  you  as  the  future 
example  to  all  princes  ;  for  although  your  highness  is 
hardly  got  clear  of  infancy,  yet  has  the  universal  learned 
world  already  resolved  upon  appealing  to  your  future  dic- 
tates, with  the  lowest  and  most  resigned  submission  ;  fate 
having  decreed  you  sole  arbiter  of  the  productions  of 
human  wit,  in  this  polite  and  most  accomplished  age. 
Methinks  the  number  of  your  appellants  were  enough  to 
shock  and  startle  any  judge,  of  a  genius  less  unlimited 
than  yours  ;  but  in  order  to  prevent  such  glorious  trials, 
the  person,  it  seems,  to  whose  care  the  education  of  your 
highness  is  committed,  has  resolved  (as  I  am  told)  to  keep 
you  in  almost  a  universal  ignorance  of  your  studies,  which  it 
is  your  inherent  birth-right  to  inspect. 

"  It  is  amazing  to  me  that  this  person  should  have'' the 
assurance,  in  the  face  of  the  sun,  to  go  about'  persuading 
your  highness  that  our  age  is  almost  wholly  illiterate,  and 
has  hardly  produced  one  writer  upon  any  subject.  I  know 
very  well,  that  when  your  highness  shall  come  to  riper 
years,  and  have  gone  through  the  learning  of  antiquity, 
you  will  be  too  curious  to  neglect  inquiring  into  the  authors 
of  the  very  age  before  you  :  and  to  thijik  that  this  insolent, 
in  the  account  he  is  preparing  for  your  view,  designs  to 
reduce  tliem  to  a  number  so  insignificant  as  I  am  ashamed 
to  mention  ;  it  moves  my  zeal  and  my  spleen  for  the 
honour  and  interest  of  our  vast  flourishing  body,  as  well  as 
of  myself,  for  whom,  I  know  by  long  experience,  he  has 
professed,  and  still  continues,  a  peculiar  malice. 

"  It  is  not  unlikely  that,  when  your  highness  will  one 
day  peruse  what  I  am  now  writing,  you  may  be  ready  to 
expostulate  with  your  governor  upon  the  credit  of  what 
I  have  affirmed,  and  command  me  to  show  you  some  of 

the  Novum  Organum  opens  thus  :  "  Your  Majesty  will  perhaps 
accuse  me  of  theft,  in  that  I  have  stolen  from  your  employments 
time  sutlicient  for  this  work."    See  p.  95,  note  1. 

'  Note  the  Baconian  expression  "  go  about."    See  pp.  32  and  394. 


GOO  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

our  productions.'  To  which  he  will  answer  (for  I  am  well 
informed  of  his  designs),  by  asking  your  highness  where 
they  are  ?  and  what  is  become  of  them  ?  and  pretend  it  a 
demonstration  that  there  never  were  any,  because  they  are 
not  then  to  be  found.  Not  to  be  found  !  who  has  mislaid 
them  ?  are  they  sunk  in  the  abyss  of  things  ?  it  is  cer- 
tain, that  in  their  own  nature,  they  were  light  enough  to 
swim  upon  the  surface  for  all  eternity.'  Therefore  the 
fault  is  in  him,  who  tied  weights  so  heavy  to  their  heels  as 
to  depress  them  to  the  centre.  Is  their  very  essence  de- 
stroyed ?  who  has  annihilated  them  ?  were  they  drowned 
by  purges,  or  martyred  by  pipes  ?  ^  who  administered  them 
to  the  posteriors  of  — —  ?  But,  that  it  may  no  longer  be  a 
doubt  with  your  highness,  who  is  to  be  the  author  of  this 
universal  ruin,  I  beseech  you  to  observe  that  large  and 
terrible  scythe*  which  your  governor  affects  to  bear  con- 
tinually about  him.  Be  pleased  to  remark  the  length  and 
strength,  the  sharpness  and  hardness  of  his  nails  and 
teeth  :  consider  his  baneful  abominable  breath,  enemy  to 
life  and  matter,  infectious  and  corrupting  :  and  then  reflect 
whether  it  be  possible  for  any  mortal  ink  and  paper  of  this 
generation  to  make  a  suitable  resistance.  0  !  that  your 
highness  would  one  day  resolve  to  disarm  this  usurping 
7naitre  du  palais  of  his  furious  engines,  and  bring  your 
empire  liors  de page.'' 

"  It  were  needless  to  recount  the  several  methods  of 
tyranny  and  destruction  which  your  governor  is  pleased  to 

'We  understand  the  word  "  governor"' as  here  used  to  mean 
time,  and  which  subject  is  so  tlioroughly  emphasized  in  all  of  these 
writings. 

'  Bacon  was  ever  of  the  opinion  that  less  weighty  matter  was 
floated  on  to  posterity,  while  the  weighty  and  valuable  more  com- 
monly sunk,  and  hence  did  he  tack  light  elements  to  the  heels  of 
this  literature  to  bear  it  forward.  Was  this  th«  "  New  River  '  men- 
tioned at  p.  590  ?  Bacon  says  :  "  So  that  time  seemeth  to  be  of  llie 
nature  of  a  river  or  flood,  that  bringeth  down  to  us  that  which  is 
light  and  blown  up,  and  siuketli  and  drowneth  that  which  is  solid 
and  grave."     (Phil.  Works,  vol.  iii.,  p.  503.) 

'  Is  this  an  allusion  to  James,  who  had  a  great  aversion  to  tobacco  ? 

*  Bacon  says  :  "  Adrian  strove  with  time  for  the  palm  of  duration, 
and  repaired  its  decays  and  ruins  wherever  the  touch  of  its  scythe 
had  appeared."     (De  Augmentis,  Book  1,  Bohn  ed.,  p.  60.) 

*  We  understand  him  here  virtually  to  ask  Prince  Posterity  to 
guard  and  protect  them  "from  confounding  age's  cruel  knife." 
See  Sonnet  63,  p.  105. 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  GOl 

practise  upon  this  occasion.  His  inveterate  malice  is  such 
to  the  writings  of  our  age,  that  of  several  thousands  pro- 
duced yearly  from  this  renowned  city,  before  the  next  revo- 
lution of  the  sun,  there  is  not  one  to  be  heard  of  :  Un- 
happy infants  !  many  of  them  barbarously  destroyed,  before 
they  have  so  much  as  learned  their  mother  tongue  to  beg 
for  pity.  Some  he  stifles  in  their  cradles  ;  others  he 
frights  into  convulsions,  whereof  they  suddenly  die  ;  some 
he  flays  alive  ;  others  he  tears  limb  from  limb._  Great 
numbers  are  offered  to  Moloch  ;  and  the  rest,  tainted  by 
his  breath,  die  of  a  languishing  consumption.' 

"  But  the  concern  I  have  most  at  heart,  is  for  your_  cor- 
poration of  poets  ;  from  whom  I  am  preparing  a  petition 
to  your  highness,  to  be  subscribed  with  the  names  of  one 
hundred  and  thirty  six  of  the  first  rate  ;- but  whose  im- 
mortal productions  are  never  likely  to  reach  your  eyes, 
though  each  of  them  is  now  an  humble  and  earnest  appel- 
lant for  the  laurel,  and  has  large  comely  volumes  ready  to 
show,  for  a  support  to  his  pretensions.  The  never-dying 
works  of  these  illustrious  persons,  your  governor,  sir,  has 
devoted  to  unavoidable  death  ;  and  your  highness  is  to  be 
made  believe,  that  our  age  has  never  arrived  at  the  honour 
to  produce  one  single  poet. 

"  We  confess  immortality  to  be  a  great  and  powerful 
goddess  ;  but  in  vain  we  offer  up  to  her  our  devotions  and 
our  sacrifices  ;  if  your  highness's  governor,  who  has  usurped 
the  priesthood,  must,  by  an  unparalleled  ambition  and 
avarice,  wholly  intercept  and  devour  them. 

"  To  affirm  that  our  age  is  altogether  unlearned,  and  de- 
void of  writers  of  any  kind,  seems  to  be  an  assertion  so 
bold  and  so  false,  that  I  have  been  some  time  thinking  the 
contrary  may  almost  be  proved  by  uncontrollable  demon- 
stration. It  is  true,  indeed,  that  although  their  numbers 
be  vast,  and  their  productions  numerous  in  proportion,  yet 
are  they  hurried  so  hastily  off  the  scene,  that  they  escape 
our  memory,  and  elude  our  sight.  When  I  first  thought 
of  this  address,  I  had  prepared  a  copious  list  of  titles  to 

'  Of  the  peccant  rumors  of  learning  Bacon  says  :  "  The  first  is  the 
affecting  of  two  extremes  ;  antifjuity  and  novelty  :  wherein  the 
children  of  time  seem  to  imitate  their  father  ;  for  as  he  devours  his 
children,  so  they  endeavour  to  devour  each  other  ;  whilst  antiquity 
envies  new  improvements,  and  novelty  is  not  content  to  add  without 
defacing."     (De  Augmentis,  Book  1,  Bohn's  ed.,  p.  49.) 


602  THREAD    OF   THE    LABYRINTH. 

present  your  highness,  as  an  undisputed  argument  for  what 
1  affirm.  The  originals  were  posted  fresh  upon  all  gates 
and  corners  of  the  streets  ;  but,  returning  in  a  very  few 
hours  to  take  a  review,  they  were  all  torn  down,  and  fresh 
ones  in  their  places.  I  inquired  after  them  among  readers 
and  booksellers  ;  but  I  inquired  in  vain  ;  the  memorial  of 
them  was  lost  among  men  ;  their  places  were  no  more  to 
be  found  ;  and  I  was  laughed  to  scorn  for  a  clown  and  a 
pedant,  without  all  taste'  and  refinement,  little  versed  in 
the  course  of  present  affairs,  and  that  knew  nothing  of 
what  had  passed  in  the  best  companies  of  court  and  town. 
So  that  I  can  only  avow  in  general  to  your  highness,  that 
Ave  do  abound  in  learning  and  wit  ;  but  to  fix  upon  particu- 
lars, is  a  task  too  slippery  for  my  slender  abilities.  If  I 
should  venture  in  a  windy  day  to  affirm  to  your  highness 
that  there  is  a  large  cloud  near  the  horizon,  in  the  form 
of  a  bear,  another  in  the  zenith,  with  the  head  of  an  ass  ; 
a  third  in  the  westward,  with  claws  like  a  dragon  ;  and 
your  highness  should  in  a  few  moments  think  fit  to  ex- 
amine the  truth,  it  is  certain  they  would  all  be  changed  in 
figure  and  position  ;  new  ones  would  arise,  and  all  we  could 
agree  upon  would  be,  that  clouds  there  were,  but  that  I 
was  grossly  mistaken  in  the  zoography  and  topography  of 
them. 

"But  your  governor  perhaps  may  still  insist,  and  put 
the  question — What  is  then  become  of  these  immense  bales 
of  paper,  which  must  needs  have  been  employed  in  such 
numbers  of  books  ?  ^  can  these  also  be  wholly  annihilate, 
and  so  of  a  sudden,  as  I  pretend  ?  What  shall  I  say  to  so 
invidious  an  objection  ?  it  ill  befits  the  distance  between 
your  highness  and  me,  to  send  you  for  ocular  conviction  to 
a  Jakes,  or  an  oven  ;  to  the  windows  of  a  bawdy-house, 
or  to  a  sordid  lantern.  Books,  like  men  their  authors, 
have  no  more  than  one  way  of  coming  into  the  world,  but 
there  are  ten  thousand  to  go  out  of  it,  and  return  no 
more. 

*  This  expression,  as  already  remarked,  is  found  in  all  of  the  works 
under  review.     See  pp.  22  and  26. 

^  In  his  last  will  Bacon  says  :  "  Also,  I  desire  my  executors,  espe- 
cially my  brother  Constable,  and  also  Mr.  Bosvile,  presently  after 
my  decease,  to  take  into  their  hands  all  my  papers  whatsoever, 
which  are  either  in  cabinets,  boxes,  or  presses,  and  them  to  seal  up 
until  they  may  at  their  leisuie  peruse  them."  (Bacon's  Letters, 
vol.  vii.,  p.  540  ) 


THREAD    OF   THE    LAIJYRINTH,  603 

**  I  profess  to  your  highness,  in  tlie  integrity  of  my 
heart,  tliat  what  I  am  going  to  say  is  literally  true  this 
minute  I  am  writing  :  what  revolutions  may  happen  before 
it  shall  be  ready  for  your  perusal,  I  can  by  no  means  war- 
rant ;  however,  I  beg  you  to  accept  it  as  a  specimen  of  our 
learning,  our  politeness,  and  our  wit.  I  do  therefore  affirm, 
upon  the  word  of  a  sincere  man,  that  there  is  now  actually 
in  being  a  certain  poet,  called  John  Dryden,'  whose  trans- 
lation* of  Virgil  was  lately  printed  in  a  large  folio,  well 
bound,  _  and,  if  diligent  search  were  made,  for  aught  I 
know,  is  yet  to  be  seen.  There  is  another,  called  Nahum 
Tate,  who  is  ready  to  make  oath  that  he  has  caused  many 
reams  of  verse  to  be  published,  whereof  both  himself  and 
his  bookseller  (if  lawfully  required)  can  still  produce 
authentic  copies,  and  therefore  wonders  Avhy  the  world  is 
pleased  to  make  such  a  secret  of  it.  There  is  a  third, 
known  by  the  name  of  Tom  Durfey,  a  poet  of  vast  com- 
prehension, a  universal  genius,  and  most  profound  learn- 
ing, Tliere  are  also  one  Mr.  Rymer,  and  one  Mr.  Dennis, 
most  profound  critics.     There  is  a  person  styled  Dr.  Bent- 

'  Were  tlie  parties  here  alluded  to  to  be  the  puppet  actors  ?  It 
is  possible  that  as  part  of  the  scheme  Bacon  did  have  priuteci 
secretly  and  bound  up  some  few  of  his  works.  As  to  whether  this 
was  a  substituted  name  remains  to  be  investigated.  Note  the  word 
"  called."  An  author  has  a  right  to  call  himself  by  such  names  as 
he  may  choose.  From  Dryden,  and  where  occurs  the  word  "  provi- 
dence" in  its  Baconian  sense,  see  p.  76,  we  have  : 

"  Or  is  it  fortune's  work,  that  in  your  head 
The  curious  net  that  is  for  fancies  spread, 
Lets  through  its  meshes  every  meaner  thought, 
While  rich  ideas  there  are  only  caught  ? 
Sure  that's  not  all  ;  this  is  a  piece  too  fair 
To  be  the  child  of  chance,  and  not  of  care. 
No  atoms  casually  together  hurl'd 
Could  e'er  produce  so  beautiful  a  world. 
Nor  dare  I  such  a  doctrine  here  admit. 
As  would  destroy  the  providence  of  wit." 

Again  : 

"  With  Monk  you  end,  whose  name  preserved  shall  be, 
As  Rome  records  Rufus'  memory." 

What  is  said  touching  "  The  Shortest  Way  with  the  Dissenters," 
at  p.  434,  may  be  said  of  Dryden's  verses  entitled  "  The  Hind  and 
the  Panther."     As  to  Wotton,  see  pp.  531  and  532. 


604  THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH. 

ley,  who  has  written  near  a  thousand  pages  of  immense 
enulition,  giving  a  full  and  true  account  of  a  certain 
sqnabble,  of  wonderful  importance,  between  himself  and  a 
bookseller  :  he  is  a  writer  of  infinite  wit  and  humour  ;  no 
man  rallies  with  a  better  grace,  and  in  more  sprightly  turns. 
Further,  I  avow  to  your  highness,  that  with  these  eyes 
I  have  beheld  the  person  of  William  Wotton,  B.D.,  who 
has  written  a  good  sizable  volume  against  a  friend  of  your 
governor  (from  whom,  alas  !  he  must  therefore  look  for 
little  favour),  in  a  most  gentlemanly  style,  adorned  with 
the  utmost  politeness  and  civility  ;  replete  with  discoveries 
equally  valuable  for  their  novelty  and  use  ;  and  embellished 
with  traits  of  wit,  so  poignant  and  so  opposite,  that  he  is  a 
worthy  yokemate  to  his  forementioned  friend. 

"  Why  should  I  go  upon  further  particulars,  which 
might  fill  a  volume  with  the  true  eulogies  of  my  contem- 
l)orary  brethren  ?  I  shall  bequeath  this  piece  of  justice  to 
a  larger  work,  wherein  I  intend  to  write  a  character  of  the 
present  set  of  wits  in  our  nation  ;  their  persons  I  shall  de- 
scribe particularly  and  at  leiigth,  their  genius  and  under- 
standings in  miniature. 

"  In  the  meaii  time  I  do  here  make  bold  to  present  your 
highness  with  a  faithful  abstract,  drawn  from  the  universal 
body  of  all  arts  and  sciences,  intended  wholly  for  your 
service  and  instruction  :  nor  do  I  doubt  in  the  least,  but 
your  highness  will  peruse  it  as  carefully,  and  make  as  con- 
siderable improvements,  as  other  young  princes  have  already 
done,  by  the  many  volumes  of  late  years  written  for  a  help 
to  their  studies. 

"  That  your  highness  may  advance  in  wisdom  and  virtue, 
as  well  as  years,  and  at  last  outshine  all  your  royal  ances- 
tors, shall  be  the  daily  prayers  of, 

"  Sir,  your  Highness's  most  obedient,  etc. 

"  Dec.  1697.'' 

Into  relation  with  this  most  subtle  eye  upon  posterity's 
literary  products  may  we  again  properly  recall  our  Head- 
light, "  For  I  have  taken  all  knowledge  to  be  my  provi- 
dence." By  the  bitterness  of  his  fall,  Bacon's  subtlety  was 
for  a  time  turned  into  satire,  and  he  made  manifest  to  the 
Defoe  period  that  learning  may  be  a  hawk  to  strike  as  well 
as  a  lark  to  soar.  The  same  subtlety  displayed  in  the 
*'  Tale  of  a  Tvib"  we  have  in  earlier  pages  traced  and  rational- 
ized in  the  sonnets.     We  have  likewise  traced  his  budding 


THREAD  OF  THE  LABYRINTH.  605 

philosophy — his  habe  in  "  swaddling  clouts" — into  the  play 
of  Hamlet,  aiid  thence  into  The  Tempest,  and  so  to  the 
Jointed  Baby  of  the  Defoe  period,  high  nonsense  alone, 
save  interpolations,  being  made  the  shield  to  its  members. 


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